Mercenary With Style
by Shadowgirl1
Summary: A glimpse into Bregan D'aerthe, regarding the story of Jarlaxle, his tailor, and a certain assassin. Chap 24 is up, the epilogue is written and the story has ended...for now... Please R & R
1. Jarlaxle's Tailor

Disclaimer: The character of Jarlaxle, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

The dark elf dipped the feather quill into the ink then brought it to parchment. He scribed the last calculation of his most recent Surface trade then placed the quill to the side, leaning back in his chair for a well deserved break. In a swift movement he placed his boot clad feet on the desk and then set his feather-plumed hat aside, revealing a bald top. He clasped his hands behind his head and sighed theatrically even though there was no one in the room. Calculating figures usually put him in an irritable mood, however the prospect of his awaiting bed slaves caused a smirk to peek at his lips.

He softly mumbled, "Mind will be eased with the easing of body."

A gem at the corner of his desk flashed, indicating someone wished to speak with him. Blinking away his light reverie he spoke his door's trigger word, "enter."

A door materialized in the wall and a vibrantly dressed drow entered his study.

"Greetings Jarlaxle," the drow said flashing a wide smile.

An amused Jarlaxle nodded to the drow, not bothering to place his hat back atop his head or set down his feet. "Greetings Jarian, what brings you to my study?"

"Many a thing Jarlaxle," Jarian said walking over to him. He picked up Jarlaxle's hat and sat at the edge of the desk crossing one leg over the other. Jarian nitpicked over a stray seam in the hat for several minutes until Jarlaxle cleared his throat.

"Pray tell then Jarian, what are these things of which you speak?" Jarlaxle said folding his arms, feigning a serious expression.

Jarian burst out laughing and set down the hat, whirling to fully face his leader. "That may work on females and the like, but I know you far too well. I have completed your new outfits and I daresay that they are my best work yet. Females will salivate, males will look upon you in jealousy, and mithril will rain down from the gods and goddesses with your passing."

Jarlaxle chuckled. "And I daresay Jarian that you are prone to exaggeration."

Jarian gave a mock look of hurt. "Come now Jarlaxle, perchance my words will come to light." He suddenly smirked, "but since we are in the Underdark, in the belly of Faerûn's black heart perhaps not."

"Indeed," Jarlaxle said chuckling again, "but either way I prosper."

"And I shall make sure that you look good doing it," Jarian said. He quickly chanted and from the confines of his form-fitting outfit he produced a new feather-plumed hat, from one of his pockets.

_Apparently large items can be stuffed in small places._ Jarlaxle grinned as he took the bright green hat from Jarian. "You always did have a flair for presenting new things," he said.

"But of course," Jarian said. "The purple feathers are from a bird on the Surface and can change to a blue hue depending on the light. But the color can change to any you wish by a mere thought. That way it can be versatile and match colors with various other outfits that you own."

Jarlaxle nodded looking at the hat before positioning it on his head. He always did appreciate Jarian's talent in the magical arts. It was fortunate that they had met when they did. It was centuries ago when Jarlaxle learned of Jarian's "uniqueness" and his finesse in designing outfits. Jarlaxle took a liking for the colors seldom seen in the Underdark and the style. Deep down he knew Jarian would have a place in his organization. Jarlaxle was only too willing to have him as his personal tailor and a valued member of Bregan D'aerthe.

"Nicely done Jarian," Jarlaxle said admiring the hat in approval.

Jarian brushed a stray strand of his immaculately sculpted hair back behind his ear as he nodded. "The females will envy you. They seem surprised at your brashness, but deep down they desire you."

Jarlaxle cast his gaze from the hat to Jarian briefly when he heard the word _desire_. Leaning back in his plush chair even more he said, "must be my natural charm."

"Perhaps," Jarian said standing, absently putting a hand to his hip.

Jarlaxle placed the hat on his head and once he adjusted it to a perfect fit he changed the colors of the feathers with subtle mental images, "you've clearly outdone yourself. I have complete faith that the new outfits will be pleasing to the eye and will serve many uses." The mercenary leader paused for a moment, "oh yes, before I become distracted, are you enjoying your new servants?"

A mischievous gleam appeared in Jarian's eyes and he replied slyly, "At first they appeared to find their dominant roles being reversed quite the conundrum, but they have learned to please me and they seem to enjoy it now."

"That's grand," Jarlaxle said. "A new shipment of slaves came in this morning. You may have your pick now if you wish. I have chosen the new recruits accordingly."

Jarian struggled not to squirm in excitement as he bowed to Jarlaxle. "I thank thee. I shall take my servants and have them help me retrieve a new one. They need a playmate."

Jarlaxle watched his tailor exit and gave an amused shake of his head. "I myself prefer females," he said quietly and slyly to himself.

Adjusting his hat at a jaunty angle, Jarlaxle swung his legs from the desk to the ground. His various pieces of jewelry chinked in synchrony at that movement, but he silenced them as he walked over to the full-length mirror visibly displayed in his office. He admired his own muscled form, enhanced further by his outfit, and then smirked to his own image before heading to his chamber to gain the pleasurable benefits of being the leader of Bregan D'aerthe.

* * *

**Author's Note**: This story was originally a one-shot ficlet…but then it grew. Jarian appeared when I was working on an RP with a friend and his creation and antics brought on fits of giggles whenever I mentioned his name, due to my oh so subtle insinuations. In a way it does make sense. :Shrugs: Anyway, I was up late one night and inspiration struck and I would not cease on this little story until nearly four in the morning. It is a small glimpse into the daily happenings of Bregan D'aerthe that grew and grew. Please review and tell me what you think. I thank thee. :Smirks:

Next chapter, an assassin enters the fray...


	2. Jarian & Entreri

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

Artemis Entreri jumped back to avoid the blade of a scimitar. Whirling about he parried with his sabre and lunged with his dagger. Another dagger met his and he pushed against his opponent, taking another swing.

Several drow surrounded the two opponents, taking bets on who would win. This newest assassin had a considerable amount of skill. Entreri had been working for Jarlaxle for about a year now and he fell into the drow lifestyle. He could fight with the best of them and could kill without any emotion. The drow of Bregan D'aerthe gave this assassin a certain measure of respect, despite the fact he was a human.

Metal met metal as the two clashed. Sweat poured down Entreri's brow. This particular drow was his height and they stared at each other, trying to outdo each other.

The drow chuckled, "tired human?"

Entreri's gaze hardened, "compensating drow?"

The drow's eyes flashed angrily and he broke from the pushing to try another swing. Entreri anticipated the move and dropped his blade; bring it up on the other side of his opponent's. With a flick of his wrist and the weight of his body he used the sabre to push the scimitar out of his opponent's hand. A roundhouse kick and sword to the throat later, his opponent yielded.

Coins and gems were exchanged with sighs and cursing.

"By the abyss," a drow cursed as he handed a pouch to Entreri, "I'm going to go broke betting against you human."

Entreri shrugged and counted the currency in the pouch.

"Greetings everyone!"

Drow and human alike froze at that voice, a collective groan arose from them as a flamboyantly dressed figure made his entrance known.

"Oh come now," Jarian said with a wide grin. Whether he acknowledged the groans or not he appeared in a rather chipper mood. "Let us all give Entreri a hand!"

He was the only one who clapped.

Entreri stared at him. This was the third time this week that Jarian had come after his fight, which only meant that he was watching from somewhere. He suppressed a horrified grimace and a groan. He saw several drow making a discrete exit and started to back into the shadows himself. . .until Jarian walked over to him.

"That was a fine fight Artemis!"

"For the hundredth time. . .you are to call me Entreri." He went to walk by Jarian.

Jarian suppressed a shiver as he blocked Entreri's path. He liked it when this human talked brusquely to him. "But your first name has such a pleasant ring to it."

Entreri glared at him. _This is not a normal drow. . .then again I should expect nothing less from Jarlaxle's personal tailor._

Running a finger along Entreri's arm Jarian grinned. "Don't give me that look." He almost seemed to pout when he got no reaction from Entreri at his touch. Little did he know that Entreri was close to horrified in his mind.

"I need to go bathe Jarian, good-bye," Entreri said going past him.

"Oh splendid! I'll join you."

Entreri froze. "No. . .I'm bathing alone."

"Well, that's no fun."

"It's not intended to be fun."

"Then I shall show you the error of your ways!" Jarian hooked an arm around Entreri's and tried to lead him down the corridor. He may as well have tried to lead a statue because Entreri didn't budge and had a stony expression on his face.

"I am in no mood for this." _By the abyss, why did I have to mention bathing?_

Jarian smiled slyly. "I can get you in the mood. . ."

Entreri let out a frustrated sigh. "No! Now leave me be." He broke away from Jarian and walked down the corridor.

"I'll tell Jarlaxle."

Entreri kept walking, trying to ignore him.

Jarian ran after him. "I'll tell Jarlaxle."

"And I don't care."

"He'll make you do what I say," Jarian said in a slight singsong voice.

"Over my dead body," Entreri said in a hard voice.

"Oh no! Not dead! I couldn't bear that!" Jarian tried to throw his arms around him.

Thanking the gods for his agility, Entreri dodged him and slammed the door shut to the washroom, taking great satisfaction in the lock's click.

Jarian folded his arms and huffed. "We'll see who gets what they want in the end." Clasping his hands behind his back, he went to his tailoring room intent on complaining to Jarlaxle later.

Author's Note: Yay I updated! Though as I quote my friend, "poor poor Entreri." But of course I can't help it, Jarian is such a fun character. There will be another chapter to be sure. So in the meanwhile, please review! Entreri hides behind the review button trying his best to motion to the readers and not Jarian


	3. Of Spying and Baths

Disclaimer:  The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore.  I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand.  The character of Jarian however is my creation.

            Layers of brightly colored fabric rested neatly on ebony tables throughout the room.  They almost seemed to sparkle when their creator entered the chamber.  Jarian walked by the various materials, lightly running his fingers over them as he made his way to a corner of the room.

             A large orange cloth covered a large mirror and with his typical flourish, Jarian removed it.  He twirled around with the cloth, then placed it neatly to the side.  Tossing his hair back he grinned to his image.  Purple was the color of the day and no; it was not the deep purple the typical drow preferred.  It was flashier sort of purple, with hints of yellow snaking about the outfit.  To Jarian his outfit screamed fashion, to others it screamed. . .well, it just made them scream.

            Stroking his chin thoughtfully Jarian pondered making a similar outfit for Jarlaxle.  "If I had some amethyst, it will give the outfit that added sparkle."  Clapping his hands, "oh splendid idea Jarian!  You've come up with yet another outfit for your beloved leader!  A leader who understands the subtle intricacies of fashion." It was not unusual for Jarian to speak in the third person.

            His attention was diverted back to the mirror.  He regarded it for a moment, then reached for a pouch on his belt.  The contents of the pouch were finely shredded white flakes and he pinched a small amount in his fingers, tossing it against the mirror.  Shredded soap flakes, mixed with magic dust could do wonders.  Taking a fiber of hair from his pocket, Entreri's hair to be exact, he placed it against the mirror.  The mirror rippled in reply and an image started to form. . .

            Artemis Entreri ran a hand through his hair as he prepared his bath.  Though he had found no scrying devices in the washroom, he was determined to be vigilant of Jarian's presence.  Why this drow seemed attracted to him perplexed him. 

            _Of all the mercenary groups in the Underdark. . .I had to be ensnared by this one.  And this Jarian character, of all the drow to be Jarlaxle's tailor. . ._

            Entreri sighed aloud.  "I shouldn't be surprised by that fact."

            He quickly disrobed and sank into the bath.  Letting the warmth overtake him, he leaned his head back and inhaled the scent of the bath.  If he could say one good thing about the drow, it would be that they knew how to relax after a fight.

Jarian fought to keep his jaw from going slack.  Entreri's form was a vision of perfection.  He cursed when he couldn't see his entire form, but he saw enough to satiate his fantasies. . .for the moment at least.  If only he could adjust the view, then his viewing pleasure would be complete.

            "Ahem. . ."

            The orange cloth was swiftly thrown over the mirror and Jarian whirled about with his face as a picture of innocence.  "Why Jarlaxle, what an unexpected surprise. . .you startled me.  Can you do it again?"

            Jarlaxle leaned against the doorframe with an amused smile on his lips.  "Perhaps."  He craned his neck to try and see what Jarian was hiding.  "What are you doing?"

            "Nothing," Jarian said quickly.

            "Oh?  Then I suppose this nothing wouldn't have to do with spying on Entreri as he bathes?"

            Jarian huffed.  "What do you take me for Jarlaxle?"

            Jarlaxle folded his arms.

            Squirming under Jarlaxle's look, Jarian sighed, grumbled, and then removed the orange cloth from the mirror.

            Walking over to the mirror Jarlaxle nodded to himself.  He absently said, "I know you too well for my own good Jarian."

            A mischievous smile splayed across Jarian's face.  "That you do."

            "However," Jarlaxle continued on, "you cannot spy on Entreri as he bathes."

            The smile fell from Jarian's face.  "Why not?!  His body attracts my eyes. . .among other things." He drifted off for a moment but came back, "please Jarlaxle!  It is bad enough that you do not order him to come to my bed chamber."

            "Jarian," Jarlaxle said in an almost parent-like voice, "if Entreri discovered what you were doing, he would kill you."

            "But maybe he would enjoy-"

            "I highly doubt that," Jarlaxle said raising a hand to cut him off.

            Jarian sighed heavily, then grabbed onto Jarlaxle's arm.  "Then at least make him wear the outfit that I made for him.  He picks such dreary clothing.  I'll simply go mad if I continue to see him in such."

            Jarlaxle paused thoughtfully.  _It would be nice to see Entreri in something other than black. . ._

            Fingers trailed up Jarlaxle's arm as Jarian put on his charm.

            Looking to Jarian, "all right.  I will have a talk with Entreri and tell him that he must wear the outfit that you made for him."

            Jarian hugged Jarlaxle's arm, then clapped happily.  "Oh splendid!  For this I shall need the services of three bed slaves to sate by excitement."

            "Well," Jarlaxle said hiding a chuckle, "I'm certain that you will find ways to keep your excitement in check.  I shall speak with Entreri and then I will contact you."

            Jarian watched as Jarlaxle walked out of his chamber. . .then broke into skips around the room.  He looked to the mirror and grinned because it was still uncovered.

            "_Jarian_. . ."

            Jarian groaned when he heard Jarlaxle's voice and put the cloth over the mirror again.  Though he was disappointed about not being able to see Entreri bathe, the prospect of seeing Entreri physically sent shivers down his spine.  He would find ways to distract himself as he waited for the opportune moment.  As he strolled out of his tailoring room, three distractions awaited him and a smile was fixed on his face.

Author's Note:

::dodges as chibi Entreri throws a pen at her::

Hey!  You just be glad I controlled myself. 

::chibi Jarian pouts, but gives Kristi a hug ::

::chibi Jarlaxle chuckles in a corner:: 

Don't mind me, but I think it would be adorable to see chibis of Entreri and Jarian, lol.  Well, as I still quote my friend "poor poor Entreri". . .especially for the next chapter.  Thank you to all that reviewed, I'm pleased that people actually like the story.

::Jarian attempts to assure everyone that there's no need to feel bad for Entreri and that he'll see too Entreri's happiness::

::Entreri sweat drops and motions to the review button in a desperate effort to distract everyone::


	4. Jarlaxle Talks with Entreri

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.  
  
Faerie fire flickered as Jarlaxle walked down the corridor. His boots made no sound on the stone floor, a technique he enjoyed immensely. It allowed him an air of secrecy and part of him took pleasure in surprising those who did not expect him.  
  
He was on his way to Entreri and hoped that he would see some measure of surprise on the assassin's stoic face. Jarian seemed close to gauging an actual reaction, but Jarlaxle was positive this most recent news would have Entreri in shock.  
  
Approaching the washroom he took out a fragment of bone from his pocket. It was flat, smoothed into a circle, and barely fit into the center of his palm. Its pale ebony surface developed a sheen as Jarlaxle mumbled a spell. A serrated rectangle protruded from the circle and Jarlaxle approached the lock. It was good to be the leader. . .and it was good to have a skeleton key.  
  
Entreri looked to the door as it swung open. His hand automatically went to his sabre and he held it at the ready. Thanking the gods that he was dressed, he readied himself for whatever would come through that door.  
  
Jarlaxle coughed back a laugh when he saw Entreri. "A little jumpy today aren't we Entreri?"  
  
"I'm not jumpy, I'm prepared," Entreri said as he lowered his sabre.  
  
"Do you always play with your sword when you're in the washroom? Jarian would be so excited. . ."  
  
Entreri gave Jarlaxle a death glare. "That is not funny."  
  
Jarlaxle chuckled, as he placed his master key back into his pocket. "He's taken quite the liking to you."  
  
"Please, don't even remind me." Entreri was reluctant to sheathe his sword, but did so anyway. Pausing for a moment he looked to Jarlaxle suspiciously, "what do you want?"  
  
"What makes you think I want anything?"  
  
"I've been in your hideout long enough to know that when you make an entrance into a washroom, which is already occupied, that something is on your mind." Folding his arms, "You've also been smirking and twirling the feather on your hat since you've entered the room."  
  
Jarlaxle stopped twirling the feather about his finger. "You are quite perceptive my dear assassin."  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"Well, since you insist . . .I just had the most interesting conversation with Jarian," Jarlaxle said. He could have sworn he saw Entreri twitch slightly. Continuing, "and I've made an arrangement with him."  
  
"An arrangement?" Entreri did not like the sound of this.  
  
"Yes, I told him that you would wear an outfit that he made for you."  
  
Entreri stared at him. "Excuse me?"  
  
"You heard me. Or has the bath oil gone to your ears?"  
  
"You didn't consult with me about this. I'm not wearing what he makes for me. The outfits that I have suit me perfectly." He hid the horror he was feeling in his mind. His eyes looked at the brightly colored outfit that Jarlaxle was wearing and nearly crawled back into his head.  
  
Jarlaxle looked to Entreri's dark attire, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "You will wear the outfit he makes for you."  
  
"I refuse and there is nothing you can say otherwise that will make me change my mind," Entreri said with a hint of stubbornness in his voice.  
  
"Oh really? Then I suppose you wouldn't mind Jarian following you everywhere, watching your every move, and maybe even slipping into your bed at night?"  
  
Entreri froze. "You wouldn't. . ."  
  
Jarlaxle grinned.  
  
Entreri muttered, "You would."  
  
"Now now, there's nothing to worry about. You do this little task and I'll make sure that you have a measure of privacy."  
  
Taking a long moment to think and realizing that there was no way he could get out of the situation, Entreri sighed and said, "Fine. But you owe me for this Jarlaxle."  
  
"I'll send some bed slaves over right away."  
  
"That's not what I meant," Entreri said in an annoyed tone. "And I better not end up alone with him."  
  
"Of course not." Jarlaxle pat him on the back. "I'm going to go tell Jarian the good news. He's been trying to listen in on our conversation. I wager the barrier of silence around us did the trick nicely."  
  
Entreri watched him leave and sat down heavily in a chair. Taking a flask from his belt he drained its contents. He would need a lot of alcohol to get through the next few hours.  
  
Closing the washroom door behind him, Jarlaxle turned to his right. He chuckled and muttered a trigger word for a spell.  
  
Jarian's form appeared and it seemed as if he was hunched near a magical door, trying to listen in through a keyhole. Realizing his disguise was foiled, he yelped slightly and fell through the door, before Jarlaxle. "Why, greetings my most esteemed leader."  
  
"Greetings," Jarlaxle said. He helped Jarian to his feet. "Did I interrupt something?"  
  
"Of course not," Jarian said. "I was just redecorating my tailoring room and decided to test out a spell." He fidgeted a little and looked to Jarlaxle. "Well? What did he say?"  
  
Jarlaxle smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"  
  
Jarian huffed and latched onto Jarlaxle's arm. "Please tell me, I'm dying to know. Bed slaves can only sate my excitement for so long. . .stop teasing me."  
  
"He said he would wear an outfit that you made for him," Jarlaxle finally said after regaining his composure.  
  
"Oh splendid!" Jarian hugged Jarlaxle's arm mumbling 'thank you' in a variety of Underdark languages. "I shall retrieve my measuring utensils straight away."  
  
Jarlaxle watched him run off and shook his head in amusement. "Another interesting day for Bregan D'aerthe."  
  
Author's Note:  
  
::Entreri hiccups in a corner and the authoress takes the flask away from him::  
  
Another day another chapter, and in the next one we'll see what kind of outfit Jarian comes up with for Entreri, of course. . .that means he has to be measured. . .  
  
::Entreri tries to get the flask back::  
  
Thanks go out to all the reviewers:  
  
Nightmaiden02: I think every chapter will have to be "poor poor Entreri". She's the one who coined the phrase, lol.  
  
Euphorbic: Thank you ever so kindly for the lovely pictures. . .they gave much inspiration. ::winks::  
  
SilverWolf7: We'll just have to see how far Jarian can get with Jarlaxle's watchful eyes, lol. As for Jarlaxle's thoughts, I think he just enjoys having fun with Entreri (provided Jarian doesn't get too obsessive with him).  
  
Becky: Of course I'm insane. True crazy people think other people are crazy, therefore if I admit I'm crazy I'm on another level entirely. ::laughs evilly::  
  
Elm and some reader: ::grins::  
  
Sylvan: Entreri's expression was so vivid in my mind, if I was a better artist I'd try to draw it, lol.  
  
Ari Linsar: Glad you enjoy it, I look forward to reviews. ::wink wink nudge nudge. . .violent shove::  
  
Em Starcatcher: Glad I could be of service in the laughter department and I love the phrase "deliciously flamboyant."  
  
Tiggermyk: You rock! I love your reaction (what I was going for).  
  
ChichiX: "Jarian is a fangirl reincarnated into a male drow's body." I can't agree with you more, that's the perfect analogy. That got me giggling.  
  
Ace: Thanks for your comment. I love Jarian (erm. . .just not in that way, lol). As for your suggestion it is interesting. I'll have to put some thought into it, if I do decide to do it you'll be the first to know. ::wink::  
  
Gaelfling: Why thank you kindly for your nice review.  
  
Spider: Thanks for actually reading the story. Glad you like. ::grins::  
  
Thanks once again and as always. Please review! ::Jarian pokes around the review button looking for Entreri, while Entreri casually conceals himself behind Jarlaxle:: 


	5. Measuring Time

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

_Pour, drink, sigh, pour, drink, sigh_. . .a drow had reduced Artemis Entreri to drinking. This particular drow's name was Jarian.

It wasn't that Entreri was becoming a drunk. No. . .the bitter, yet sweet liquid made him less stressful. He was an assassin known for his composure, his unshakable ability to remain emotionless. It seemed that Jarian was the antithesis to breaking all that.

_I will not let him get to me, _Entreri thought. _I am Artemis Entreri, the sound of my name strikes fear into the hearts of my enemies. _He paused in his thoughts, _I don't want to know what Jarian thinks when he says my name. . ._

He shook his head and drained another mug.

Jarlaxle walked into Entreri's room without knocking. He raised an eyebrow; due to the fact the door was already unlocked. "Entreri, how many drinks have you had?"

Entreri turned around to look at Jarlaxle, narrowed his eyes slightly, and then motioned to a row of empty bottles. "I lost count after six."

"Oh please, you've probably kept a running count in your head of how many sips you've taken," Jarlaxle retorted. "Is Jarian really that bad?"

"You like the clothing he makes for you," Entreri replied. "You're biased."

"That is because he is a hidden genius of fashion."

Entreri rolled his eyes. "My point exactly."

"Now Entreri, it would not do if you were drunk around Jarian. His feelings may get hurt," Jarlaxle said.

Entreri fixed a look on him.

Pausing, "all right, so he may take advantage of you."

"I'm fine," Entreri said. He went to stand, but after a moment he sat back down as the words seemed to sink in. "Take. . .advantage. . .of. . .me?"

"Don't be coy," Jarlaxle smirked. "Would you like me to go into detail?"

"No," Entreri said, with a hint of swiftness. "That's quite all right."

"Anyway, I came here for a reason," Jarlaxle said. "Jarian needs to measure you."

Entreri paused in his drinking. "Measure me?"

"Yes, measure you. He is rather the perfectionist when it comes to making outfits."

"Hasn't he already measured me while I've slept?" Entreri asked the question with his voice heavily laced with sarcasm, but his eyes widened slightly when Jarlaxle didn't reply right away. "Jarlaxle?"

Jarlaxle blinked. "Oh, my apologies, I couldn't get over the fact that you used sarcasm without hiding it. But, you will have to be measured. I believe that Jarian is waiting."

"I have to be measured now?"

"Yes, and it would be nice if you were sober," Jarlaxle trailed off and handed a vial of liquid to him.

"What is it?"

"It will give you quite the headache, but you shall have all your faculties about you."

Entreri took the vial from Jarlaxle's hand and stared at it for a long moment. "There are no other side effects I should know about?"

"No, now drink up, Jarian awaits."

Entreri took a breath and drank from the vial. Its crystalline content made its way down his throat and he could feel the beginning of a headache, yet he could also feel the heaviness of his previous drinking fade away. Taking another breath he followed Jarlaxle.

Jarian practically danced in his tailoring room. . .all right, he was technically dancing, but he was levitating in the air while doing so. Ideas about Entreri's outfit whirled in his head, along with matching accessories. He had made quite a few sketches of his ideas and consulted his various tomes (that he wrote) about form fitting outfits. Of course he had to make sure that Entreri's outfit would not overwhelm Jarlaxle's. After all, his leader, next to himself, was to possess the best fashion sense in the Underdark, if not all of Faerûn.

His attention turned to the door as Jarlaxle entered, his attention then did a back flip of joy as he saw Entreri. While it has not yet been proven that a drow's attention is capable of back flips, it has been suggested that Jarian's attention is capable of such, for after all he is Jarian.

"Welcome to my chamber!" Jarian extended his arms and showed off the brightly decorated tailoring room.

Jarlaxle nudged Entreri for a reaction. Entreri was momentarily blinded by the colors of the room, but he recovered quickly. "Thanks, now can we please get this over with?"

With a grin, Jarian nodded enthusiastically. His hand went to a coiled length of measuring cord. It rested like a whip at his side and when Jarian unfurled it, actually snapping it at his side. . .Entreri felt the urge to run out of the room. There were several things that stopped him from doing the aforementioned, a) he had to get through this ordeal to gain a certain amount of privacy, b) Jarian might get excited and give chase, and c) Jarlaxle's hand was on his shoulder to prevent him from doing such a thing.

Jarlaxle patted Entreri's shoulder and moved toward the door. "I have some business to attend to and I shall return once it is finished. Jarian, I trust that you are capable of gaining the measurements you require. Do not do anything to provoke Entreri. And Entreri, you are to do what Jarian says within reason. . .and I will know what is within reason, so do make your decisions wisely."

Entreri watched Jarlaxle leave and inwardly moved him up in his mental 'to kill' list.

Jarian waved goodbye to his leader, then turned his gaze to Entreri. "So now we are alone. . .and in one of my chambers." He seductively thrust his hair over his shoulder.

Entreri just stared at him. "Don't you have some measuring to do?"

"Right, of course," Jarian said, smoothing his hair to its normal position. It appeared he would have to work a little harder to make Entreri fall for him. His usual tactics would have to be refined. "Come over here and take your clothes off."

"Excuse me?" Entreri fought to keep his voice steady and not rise into a high-pitched squeak. High-pitched squeaks are not befitting of an assassin. "Taking my clothes off is hardly 'within reason' as Jarlaxle so aptly put."

"A drow can dream," Jarian said with a wistful sigh. This elicited a subtle twitch from Entreri that went unnoticed. "But you will have to remove your weapons, your boots, and your shirt."

"My weapons?" Entreri shook his head. He should be more worried about removing his shirt. Regardless of his protesting mind he placed his weapons on a table at the side. Jarian watched in awe as Entreri pulled out weapons from pockets he didn't even know existed. . .it got him excited. Entreri removed his boots and then after a brief pause removed his shirt.

Jarian stared at a vision of perfection. His immaculately sculpted chest rippled with each breath the assassin took. A small amount of sweat glistened as faerie fire reflected off of the small droplets, creating rainbows in his eyes. His-

"Ahem. . ."

Jarian blinked, it seemed his train of thought was running away from him. "Oh yes, the task at hand."

Entreri shifted and stood rigidly as Jarian bade him to sit down. He watched as Jarian proceeded to measure his foot.

Jarian lightly touched each of Entreri's toes and experimentally tickled the bottom of his feet with a feather. When he got no response he almost seemed to pout.

"I'm not ticklish," Entreri said.

"Everyone is ticklish," Jarian easily replied. "It's all a matter of finding that special spot." His fingers started to walk up Entreri's ankle.

Entreri quickly stood and Jarian took that opportunity to measure his arms and height. Jarian chuckled when he measured Entreri's hips, _so close yet so far away_. His eyes widened slightly as he asked, "Entreri have you removed all of your hidden weapons?"

"Yes, why?"

"No reason." He walked around Entreri, "lift your arms straight out to your sides please." He grinned when Entreri obliged and proceeded to wrap his arms about Entreri's waist, with the measuring cord in hand.

Entreri was as rigid as a statue.

"You're so tense Artemis," Jarian said as he got the measurement. He decided to linger in his current position, resting his chin on Entreri's shoulder. "Do relax, for both our sakes."

Entreri shook his shoulders in reply, clamping Jarian's mouth shut and pushing his away from his position. "Don't call me Artemis."

With a chuckle Jarian measured Entreri's chest from behind, taking his time and inching closer as his hands explored.

It was at this time that Jarlaxle walked into the room. "Well, I'm glad to see that you two are getting along so well."

Entreri pulled away from Jarian abruptly and Jarian nearly fell forward. "Am I finished here?"

"Well, you see-" Jarlaxle gave Jarian a look. "Yes, you are finished Artemis. I have all the measurements I require, for the moment."

"Good," Entreri said. He put his shirt back on, then his boots, and then proceeded to place his weapons back in their appropriate places. "I'm going to retire to my chamber."

Jarlaxle let Entreri leave the room and folded his arms looking to Jarian. In an amused tone, "you actually got him to remove his shirt?"

"It was necessary for the measuring," Jarian replied. He then sighed, "if only his pants were looser, then I could have gotten him to remove those."

"I'll leave you to your tailoring," Jarlaxle said. "Contact me when your masterpiece for Entreri is created."

"Of course my Captain."

Jarlaxle left the tailoring room and chuckled. He did look forward to seeing what Jarian would come up with for the assassin. He was relieved when his sobering vial worked on Entreri. While it did make him sober, it also made him more willing to suggestion. Without the latter, the measuring could have taken a different turn. Then again it could have taken a different turn entirely if Jarian found out or if Entreri wasn't as strong willed.

"The drow tailor versus the human assassin," Jarlaxle mused aloud. "Who will win?" He twirled the feather on his hat and answered his own question. "The drow mercenary leader will win of course."

Author's Note: Now that the measuring is done, that means one thing. . .next chapter the outfit will be revealed. Please review! ::bows to all reviewers:: Thank you for your previous ones!

::Jarian pouts:: "I want to reveal my masterpiece now!!"

::authoress looks to him:: "Jarian you have to wait."

::Entreri breathes a sigh of relief:: "Thank goodness." ::he pauses:: "By the abyss. . .you mean I actually have to wear the outfit in the next chapter?!"

::Authoress and Jarlaxle answer at the same time:: "Yes."

::Entreri looks for a drink and mutters:: "By the abyss. . ."

::Jarian levitates himself on top of the review button and languidly lies down, motioning to the button::


	6. Entreri's Outfit Unveiled

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

A haze of colors whirled about Jarian's ankles as he worked on Entreri's outfit. Snapping his fingers a rainbow appeared, stretching across the room. He regarded it for a moment, and then reached up to pluck the violet band from the arch. Waving his hand the rainbow dissipated and he added the color to the fabric. Jarian spared no expense when it came to creating outfits.

Kneading some material in his hands he regarded it with a grin. "Ah spider silk. . .it invites touch. And of course spider silk is the perfect material to use if one wants to catch an assassin in their web. I do so enjoy a challenge, especially when I am the spider in charge of the web."

Cauldrons of colored dyes boiled, various vials exuded smoke, and Jarian's fingers dexterously sewed intricate patterns into fine materials. Every so often he would reach into a pouch to his side and sprinkle sparkling dust on materials. Spells rolled off his tongue as he enhanced the outfits. Translucent spiders of varying colors crawled over the material, sewing together fabric with seemingly invisible thread.

A creature appeared from between a crack in the wall and hovered over to Jarian. It resembled a white mouse, yet its fur was tinged with a golden shimmer and it had wings. Delicate wings of a fairy rested behind the mouse's shoulder blades and seemed to radiate different colors. This creature was Jarian's familiar.

"Tazolg," Jarian said as his familiar landed on his shoulder, "you are just in time to witness one of my greatest creations."

Tazolg nibbled on his ear in reply and squeaked softly. Its wings fluttered quickly and shimmered purple in excitement.

There was one who was feeling furthest from excitement. . .and that was Artemis Entreri. The prospect of wearing one of Jarian's eccentric outfits did not get his mind excited. He suppressed the urge to find more alcohol for two reasons. One, he did not want to be drunk while he wore Jarian's outfits and two, if he did get drunk he didn't want to take Jarlaxle's 'sobering drink.' While the drink did make him sober, he was suspicious of its side effects, especially when he reviewed the memory of Jarian measuring him. A memory, by the way, he wished to forget.

Taking a flat rock in one hand and his sabre in the other he contented himself to sharpening his sword. It was a task he could fall into mechanically and one that would not create any extraneous thoughts in his mind.

"Sharpening my sword is safe," Entreri said to himself. "I am keeping it in shape, just in case I need to defend myself." He then mumbled, "or destroy an outfit."

Jarlaxle relaxed in his chamber, sipping a goblet of mushroom wine. He lazed in a plush chair and every so often would smirk as he plotted. A paper of ideas rested on a table at his side and he absently twirled the feathered quill in his hand.

He tossed the quill in the air and it wafted to the paper beside him. "Note to self, consider Surface venture where Jarian sells his wares to increase profits for Bregan D'aerthe." The quill scribed down his words as he spoke them. Taking another sip of his wine, "consider bodyguards to accompany him."

Waving his hand the feathered quill floated back to his hat to join the other feathers. He stood and examined the various outfits that Jarian had made for him in the past. In his mind he tried to envision what Jarian would create for Entreri. He chuckled as he combined outfits together in his mind and thought of Entreri in them.

A gem at his desk flashed and a voice called out from it, "Jaaarrrrlllaaxxxllleeee."

Jarlaxle walked over to his desk and addressed the gem. "Yes Jarian?"

"Guess."

"Let me think," he paused dramatically, "you've managed to ensnare another lover."

"Close," Jarian said with a sly tone. "But you are a tease my Captain. My masterpiece is complete."

"In that case, shall I bring Entreri to your tailoring room for the grand unveiling?"

"Of course," Jarian said excitedly. "Do hurry, I want to see his reaction."

Jarlaxle cut the connection and chuckled, "as do I."

_Scrape, scrape, scrape…_

Entreri still sharpened his sword and didn't even pause as Jarlaxle entered his chamber.

Jarlaxle looked at Entreri's actions and thought, _this is too easy. _But of course, he was Jarlaxle, so he made a comment anyway. "Are you getting your sword ready for Jarian?"

Pausing in his sharpening, "_Jarlaxle_." His tone was deadly and a warning if there ever was one.

His tone drew a grin from Jarlaxle. "Your outfit is complete. Jarian is waiting."

Entreri stood and sheathed his sabre. He could have whined, begged, pleaded, or bribed the mercenary leader not to go, but he was above all that nonsense. "Let's get this over with, so I can forget this as soon as possible."

As they walked to Jarian's tailoring chamber Jarlaxle turned to look at him. "You best act as if you like the outfit."

Entreri gave him a cold look. "What if I just don't say anything at all and you can speak for me?"

Jarlaxle slyly grinned. "Oh?"

"Never mind," Entreri said. "I won't insult him and I'll tolerate the outfit for the time being." With a sigh he mumbled, "The things I do for privacy."

Jarlaxle couldn't help but think as he overheard the mumble; _at least he did not say 'the things I do in privacy'. _

Jarian waited anxiously in his tailoring chamber. He made sure that the velvet curtain covering his creation was positioned correctly. His familiar, Tazolg, nuzzled his neck reassuringly. Jarian smiled to him, took him in his hand and willed him to flutter into a dark corner so he could watch the unveiling.

A larger smile formed on Jarian's face when Entreri entered his chamber, followed by Jarlaxle. "Splendid! You've arrived." Walking over to Entreri, "aren't you excited?"

Entreri was about to respond 'no', but a look from Jarlaxle changed his mind. "Words cannot describe how I feel right now."

Jarlaxle looked to Jarian. "I must admit, I am anxious to see Entreri's outfit."

"Isn't the anticipation delightful? It sends shivers down my spine," Jarian responded.

Jarlaxle nodded and his eyes drifted to a curtain, hovering in the middle of the room, seemingly in the form of a human body. Entreri braced himself as Jarian approached the curtain.

"Jarlaxle, Artemis," Jarian said grabbing the curtain, "I present to you the latest in Assassin Attire." He unveiled the outfit with his typical flourish. The faerie fire in the room dimmed and spotlighted the outfit.

Entreri was about to say, 'don't call me Artemis', but the words died in his throat as he saw the outfit.

Jarlaxle's eyes widened. "Oh my. . ."

The outfit seemed to be modeled by an invisible human that hovered just above the ground. Entreri slowly assessed the outfit and concluded that it grew worse and worse as it progressed toward the head.

Shiny obsidian boots caught his eyes. He liked the color black, but this black was tainted by the drow known as Jarian. It almost seemed to twinkle when he looked at it, as if it had silver sparkles.

Deep violet pants met his eyes next and they seemed to have a sheen. He didn't want to venture how tight they were, for they reminded him of a leather material.

A neon pink belt rested at the top of the pants and he was of the opinion he really didn't need the belt because the pants looked so form fitting; maybe it was the golden buckle that threw him off.

A brilliant orange shirt then accosted his sight. A v-neck appeared to expose the upper chest area and clasped right below it, revealing the stomach. Thin mesh sleeves ended with a frill a little beyond the wrist.

His eyes then fell upon the large feather plumed hat. It was a bright green and contained feathers that gleamed different colors. The material holding the feathers in place matched the color of his pants.

All in all. . .it was something Entreri couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams. It was then that his dreams turned into nightmares. . .

"All right Entreri," Jarian said with a sly grin, "time to put on the outfit."

_ By the abyss. . ._Entreri thought.

Author's Note: Aren't I just mean to stop the chapter there? But of course you can guess that the next chapter will be Entreri trying on the outfit. I was thinking about stopping before revealing the outfit. . .but I promised you all its description. ::chuckles:: On a random note, I just had to create Tazolg. ::tickles Tazolg:: Isn't he cute?!

::Jarian takes advantage of the authoress' distraction and poses near the review button 'click me!'::

Authoress: Er. . .Jarian. . .please don't scare away the nice reviewer. . .

Jarian: "I was talking to Entreri. . ."

Entreri: ::sweatdrops::

Authoress: ::stares:: ::composes self:: Anyway, reviews are encouraged, if not loved, if not cherished...okay okay, so you get the point.

Entreri: ::draws sabre::

Authoress: Gah! Not that point!


	7. Entreri Tries on the Outfit

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

The outfit. . .no, the atrocity was more the appropriate description, blinded Entreri's eyes.

Entreri managed to form words and asked evenly, "Try it on?"

Jarian nodded happily and had the outfit float over to the assassin.

Jarlaxle looked to Entreri. "Of course try it on."

Swallowing a comment Entreri composed himself admirably and walked toward the washroom. . .the outfit following him.

"Why can't he change out here Jarlaxle?"

"Because Jarian, waiting makes you want something more."

"I like the way you think my Captain," Jarian said, with a sly twinkle in his eye.

With an inward chuckle Jarlaxle thought, _I also like the way I think._ He was of the opinion that this was one of Jarian's best outfits that he ever made. It expressed his passion for fashion. . .among other things. Entreri's expression was one he would treasure. While the assassin seemed composed, his superior observational skills noticed an almost imperceptible twitch of Entreri's left eye.

Entreri pretended he didn't hear Jarian and Jarlaxle's comments as he departed for the washroom. He folded his arms and slowly regarded the outfit. The outfit almost seemed to shimmer in reply, as if it was happy that Entreri was looking at it. Somehow when Entreri thought on this fact, it seemed a feasible option when he considered who created it in the first place.

He blinked when the outfit laid itself out for him. Approaching the pants he recoiled at what he saw inside. . .Jarian had made undergarments for him.

He ran a hand through his hair and cursed. The undergarment he had on now was practical; it did what it needed to do. However, it would be nearly impossible to wear with the tight pants Jarian made for him. He considered not wearing any underwear at all, but he did not want to make Jarian any more excited than he already was. Lifting the undergarment from the pants with his two fingers, he treated it as if it was a delicate piece of parchment.

The undergarment itself was one that would go unnoticed in the tight pants. With Jarian's exceptional skill, only the wearer and the creator would know it was there, making the observer wonder what lie beneath. It was filmy and Entreri wagered to guess that it was made of spider silk, with a little something added to make it stretchable and to. . .conform. The irony of the undergarment being made of a spider web did not escape Entreri and he did not wish to take that thought any further than it needed to, gods forbid if Jarlaxle found it.

Entreri undressed mechanically and slipped the undergarment on. He was horrified to find that it was a perfect fit.

Putting on the deep violet pants proved to be most difficult indeed. He tried one leg, and then the other. He then sat in a chair to try and wrench the pants on. It wasn't until he picked up a dagger to cut at the material when the pants seemed to writhe, snake about his thighs, and then cling to his legs. He slowly set down the dagger and stared at the pants, which innocently shed a deep violet sheen.

"That is not normal. . ."

The shirt's bright orange color accosted his vision and when Entreri's eyes adjusted to the color he went to put it on. It didn't surprise him as much as the pants when the shirt proceeded to lace itself. He clasped the buckle next and tensed as he waited for something to happen, luck was with him when nothing drastic happened. The golden buckle merely twinkled.

He slipped into the boots and inwardly admitted they were comfortable. Soft material inside the boots shifted to support his feet. He only wished that the boots didn't sparkle as much as they did. . .or rather he preferred that they didn't sparkle at all. Assassins do not sparkle.

He put his weapons back on and reached for the hat. Placing it on his head he slowly turned toward the mirror. To the normal fashion conscious eye, he wouldn't look that bad. Fashion runways in other parts of the world contained 'outrageous' outfits to showcase a designer's talent and vision. The only vision Entreri was seeing was that of throwing the outfit into the deepest layer of the nine hells, watching it burn, and then watching a demon trample on its ashes.

"Artemis!" Jarian called from the other room, "Come and show us the finished product!"

Entreri grumbled, "don't call me Artemis."

Almost as if Jarlaxle overheard him, "stop grumbling and come on out Entreri."

Entreri took a steadying breath and walked into the room.

Jarian clapped happily and let out a squeak of glee. Tazolg squeaked in reply from across the room and Entreri merely assumed it was Jarian. The eyes of Jarian shined as they absorbed the sight of Entreri in his outfit. It was as he envisioned it, yet so many times better. His lips curled into a sly smile and his eyes drifted to the pants. _So, he wore them after all._ A shiver of excitement crept up Jarian's spine.

Jarlaxle stroked his chin thoughtfully as he looked at Entreri in the outfit. He was trying his best not to burst out in laughter at Entreri's expression. Entreri looked about as resigned as a drow male trying on an outfit their Matron Mother picked out for them. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the outfit in its entirety. It really was quite good.

"Congratulations Jarian!" Jarlaxle pat him on the shoulder. "This is a finely crafted outfit."

"Thank you my Captain, your approval means the Underdark to me." Jarian walked around Entreri. Purposely looking toward his pants and then up to Entreri's eyes, "everything fits correctly?"

"Yes," Entreri said in a clipped tone.

"Splendid!" Jarian gave him a quick hug before he could protest.

Entreri's hand went toward his sabre, but a warning look from Jarlaxle stopped that movement. The feathers of Entreri's hat glowed. It was a good thing that Entreri did not know that they reflected Jarian's excitement; otherwise a warning look may not have stopped him from drawing the sabre.

"You look stunning Entreri," Jarlaxle said with a smirk in his voice. "You should dress like this all the time."

Jarian perked up excitedly until Entreri said, "no."

"Shame," Jarlaxle said.

Jarian cleared his throat. "Allow me now to describe to you the subtle intricacies of my creation."

Jarlaxle sat down and poured himself a glass of wine. He noticed Entreri eyeing the wine glass and languidly sipped it as he glared. "Go on Jarian."

He motioned as he talked. "The boots are finely crafted from lizard hide and can mold to support the delicate arch of one's foot. It also allows for circulation and increased mobility. The obsidian dye contrasts with the sparkles of a pixie, sustaining the metaphor of one's ability to walk in darkness and light."

Entreri thought_, My boots are a metaphor?_

"The deep violet pants have the ability to cling to the muscles and can morph to close any rips in the fabric. It is a self-fixing charm whose side effect is the added sheen."

"An useful ability," Jarlaxle said, recalling from experience.

Jarian nodded. "The belt gives the outfit an added dazzle. The buckle can shine brightly all depending on the will of the user. If one stares for too long at the outfit, one can simply suggest to the buckle to shine and their eyes will be blinded by its magnificence."

Entreri slowly looked to the belt. _I am not going to flash Jarian._

Jarian continued, "the shirt's color is vibrant and a testament to risk taking. While the fabric may look flimsy and is in fact rather soft to the touch, it can repel crossbow quarrels."

"Really?"

Jarian nodded to Jarlaxle's question.

Jarlaxle stroked his chin thoughtfully, and then unleashed a crossbow quarrel. The laces of Entreri's outfit unlaced to bat the quarrel aside, then tied themselves neatly into a bow. Nodding to himself, Jarlaxle slipped the hidden crossbow back into his sleeve.

"You. . .shot. . .me," Entreri said in measured words.

"I trust Jarian's tailoring ability," Jarlaxle said easily.

Jarian beamed.

"But you shot me!"

Jarlaxle shrugged and Entreri struggled to maintain his composure. Jarlaxle noted with great satisfaction that the very small twitch in Entreri's left eye had returned.

"As you can see the outfit has impeccable reflexes, thought of course its accuracy is dependant on the wearer. If the wearer is not strong and does not have finely tuned senses of, for example, an assassin then the quarrel will hit them." Jarian noted with satisfaction that Entreri seemed to actually like that aspect. "Anyway, the hat can repel any liquid, such as rain for those long walks on the Surface. I also enjoy the special feathers."

Jarlaxle noticed that when Jarian smiled widely the feathers glowed. "They are special indeed."

Entreri didn't want to know why they were special. . .it was safer that way.

Jarian and Jarlaxle stared at the outfit admiringly. Entreri shifted. "All right, I've worn your outfit and upheld my part of the bargain. I'm going to change into normal clothes now."

Jarian sighed heavily and Jarlaxle waved him away.

"Yes, you have upheld your part of the bargain," Jarlaxle said. "Go back to your room and change, you shall get the privacy you so desire."

Jarian perked up at the word desire, but inwardly cursed thinking on how he could get around this whole 'privacy' aspect.

"Thank you," Entreri said flatly. He nodded to the both of them before leaving.

Jarlaxle watched him leave and turned to Jarian, expecting him to be inconsolable. He was, to say the least, surprised to find Jarian smiling.

"Are you happy that Entreri tried on your outfit?"

"That's not why I'm smiling," Jarian said simply. "Though, it is a part of the reason."

"Oh?"

"He still needs to remove the outfit," Jarian said calmly sitting down. "He will come to me." With a grin, "there is that and his room is on the other side of the hideout."

Jarlaxle chuckled. "Do behave yourself."

"Always," Jarian said with the most innocent smile.

Jarlaxle didn't buy the 'innocent' smile, but was amused nonetheless. "I have work to attend to and I do not want Entreri to bother me because you are interfering with his privacy."

Jarian watched him exit and Tazolg floated over to him. Tazolg squeaked and glowed fuchsia, reflecting Jarian's mood. "That's right Tazolg, I'm feeling naughty."

Author's Note: ::giggles and glows fuchsia:: Sorry that the update took a bit, been busy and a little under the weather. But I figured, 'hey, it's almost my birthday, I better update before then.' Next chapter: Entreri has to somehow get the outfit off. Please review!

::Entreri leaps at her with his sabre::

"Gah! Stop! I want to live to be 20! Let me live past August 24th!!"

::Entreri goes to strike then freezes as he sees Jarian::

::Authoress' jaw drops::

::Jarian grins:: "Okay! I'm wearing my birthday suit!!"

::Jarlaxle enters room, sees what's going on, exits room::

::Entreri and authoress run after him, saving the review button, so that people won't be scared away::

Reviewer Comment Time (I love you guys, lol)!!!!!!

LPdarkstorm: Thank you, it really means a lot when people say that I can portray a character well. As for Jarian creeping people out. . .he tends to have that effect on people. . .I don't really know why. . .

::Jarian prances about in birthday suit and authoress sweatdrops:: Er. . .never mind. . .

Chickens: "Late Entreri the Pink" I burst out laughing when I read that. I like the sound of that.

::Entreri draws sabre::

Katie: Thank you for the comments, my story as a gem. . .I like the sound of that. ::Jarian looks to her:: "Did you know Entreri's eyes sparkle like gems?"

::Jarlaxle restrains Entreri::

Euphorbic: "Like a bad accident, no matter how painful this gets, I can't turn my eyes away. Part of me wants to ask you how you could do this to Entreri, the other half is just in stupefied awe that you have. I think if I was Entreri, I'd sooner sleep with Jarian than wear that! Pain over humiliation any day! The trick would be to make sure Jarian didn't... well, like it." I couldn't have described it better myself. Sometimes I swear this story writes itself.

::Jarian likes Euphorbic's idea::

::Entreri's jaw drops::

Spider: Thanks for the inspiration for the outfit; it was like you plucked it from my brain.

Some Reader: Mission accomplished, lol. Glad I could aid in laughter.

Sylvan: ::Jarlaxle hands Sylvan a vial with a wink::

::authoress looks about for a cult following::

::Entreri blinks "did she call the outfit. . .sex-ey??"::

Ace: ::Entreri takes bag of sugar and calmly asks to borrow Ace's dog::

::Jarian gives the both of them a look, then grins "you should see the outfit I made for the dog"::

::Jarian then grins "torture chamber eh? Oh Entreri. . ."::

Oh great, give him an idea.

Silverwolf: Glad you liked the quote and Tazolg. ::Tazolg squeaks happily::

::Entreri grumbles, "she called me Artemis"::

As for Jarlaxle, well, I'd say he likes the outfit and that he enjoys watching Entreri squirm, lol. Your comment made me laugh so very hard and I made sure the review button was saved this chapter. . .Jarian on the other hand. . .well. . .erm. . .yeah. . .

Oracle: ::Entreri hides with Oracle and mumbles, "well, least it's better than being kidnapped by Jarian"::

::Jarian grins::

Lena Silverwing: Hmm, Drizzt and Entreri? ::Jarian huffs "he's mine!"::

::authoress slowly backs away:: I shall have to think on that pairing, we'll see how much spare time I have in the future. But if I do decide to do it ::wink:: you'll be the first to know.

Alexia: Thanks for the reviews! Glad you like the story.

Em Starcatcher: Yeah, if it wasn't for that sobering potion. . .well, things may have gotten messy.

Nightmaiden02: If RAS were to stumble across the story ::giggle:: that would rock! I can't even picture his reaction, well I could. . .it would either involve A) a Jarlaxle like chuckle, B) a Jarian-like clapping, C) an imperceptible twitch of his left eye like Entreri, or D) a mixture of all of the above


	8. Outfit difficulty

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

Holding his head in his hands, Entreri did his best to stifle a sigh of exasperation. The wiles of Jarian were factors that no one, not even an assassin could forestall.

"The sooner I get out of this outfit, the sooner I can escape from his influence," he said to himself.

He examined his room for magical devices, secured the door, and reached to unbutton his shirt. . .

. . . .and to his utter horror. . .

. . . . .he found that he couldn't remove the shirt.

He blinked for a moment and narrowed his eyes. He attempted to remove his boots, but it felt as if a force wouldn't allow the articles of clothing to be removed. Taking his dagger, he attempted to rip the clothing, not caring about the drow's reaction.

The blade of his dagger sparked when it touched fabric and the clothing clung onto him even more. "By the abyss. . .Jarian!"

Tazolg squeaked happily as his master stroked the top of his mouse head. His wings fluttered in delight and glowed green. Jarian couldn't help but sigh wistfully, "Now why can't Artemis have a similar reaction?"

The flying mouse squeaked, hearing Entreri's name.

"Yes Tazolg, you like that human," Jarian said fondly. "I like him as well. . .though I wager for much different reasons."

Tazolg gave Jarian an inquisitive look, sending the drow into a peal of laughter.

While Entreri stalked purposefully toward Jarlaxle's office, Jarlaxle was attending to very important work. Work that required his most focused attention, work that demanded the skills of a refined mercenary leader, and work that attested to his versatility as a respected captain.

_vel'drav l'jjunle d'oloth rei_

when the shades of darkness fall)

_nindyn vel'uss kyorl wun veldrin doer_

(those who wait in shadows come)

_l'char'riss d'streea chu._

(the message of death comes)

Jarlaxle was reclined at his desk chair, strumming on a gourd and singing. He had procured the stringed gourd from a group of traveling merchants that grew the ebony fruit. While he was a mercenary of the highest regard, he was also a secretly talented musician.

Entreri entered his office, without warning, just as Jarlaxle finished a line of the song. Quickly stashing the stringed gourd he looked sternly at Entreri.

"Before you speak, I demand to know where Jarian is!" Entreri paused, "was there someone singing in here?"

Jarlaxle said smoothly, "No." He inwardly shifted and shared a glance with Entreri, who took advantage of the opportunity.

"Are you certain? It didn't sound that bad."

"Yes, I'm certain." Jarlaxle paused, "you didn't think it was bad?"

Entreri stifled a savage grin and then shook his head, maybe he was hearing things. After all he was quite stressed at the moment. "I can't get these clothes off."

"And you want Jarian to take them off for you? I must say that this is a change of heart."

"There is no change of heart, you know perfectly well what I meant. He's done something to them and I can't remove them. You are fortunate that I did not kill the drow that saw it amusing to jest at my expense while I walked past them."

"If you didn't kill them, then what did you do to them?

"What makes you think I did anything?"

Jarlaxle motioned to his side, "there's blood on your sabre."

"The healers will take care of them. They're not harmed permanently," Entreri replied coldly, with a frigid glint in his eyes.

"I see, well in that case Jarian would be in his tailoring room. I imagine he is working on another outfit," Jarlaxle said.

"Thank you," Entreri turned to leave, but stopped when Jarlaxle called his name.

"Do not harm him," Jarlaxle said. "He has a sensitive, emotional side."

"I will show him the sensitive side of my sabre then," Entreri said.

"_Entreri_. . ."

"No guarantees," Entreri said as he exited.

Jarlaxle looked down to his stringed gourd, "that was close." Looking toward the door, "I do hope he doesn't kill him."

Jarian lazed in a chair, watching the door anxiously. One leg was thrown carelessly over an arm of the chair and his arms were extended out to his sides. His countenance brightened as Entreri threw open the door. "Artemis!" He cried the name happily until Entreri rushed at him with a sword, "Artemis?!" He leapt from the chair, which was immediately skewered by Entreri's sabre. A thousand fantasies ran through Jarian's head, but he placed them aside for the moment, wondering why Entreri was so keen on attacking him.

"You! Take whatever it is you put on me off!"

"Okay!!!!!!"

Entreri pushed him away when Jarian eagerly jumped at him. "Not the outfit. The spell you've placed on it."

Jarian fanned his face with his hand, "choose your words carefully Artemis for they can get me rather excited."

Entreri was close to losing it. His rage was fanned by the fires of the nine hells and there was hardly enough water to extinguish the rising anger. It took several moments to cool that rage into hardened steel. . .that is until Tazolg started floating about his head.

"What is that?!" He started slashing at the creature with its sword. Tazolg squeaked in alarm and fluttered wildly about the room. His wings were pulsing yellow in alarm.

"No!! Not my darling Tazolg!"

Entreri threatened it with his sword. "It won't be darling anymore unless you tell me how to remove the spell."

Jarlaxle walked into the chamber, after hearing from several guards that there was a terrible commotion in Jarian's tailoring room. "Entreri, why are you threatening a flying mouse?"

"This is no ordinary flying mouse, this is _his_ flying mouse," he said gesturing with his chin to Jarian, who had a rapt look on his face. This was mostly due to the fact that Entreri's clothes had tightened, not only because he tried to tear his clothes off previously, but also because he was sweating and areas were starting to cling. The feathers in Entreri's hat were also emanating a scarlet red.

"His name is Tazolg," Jarian said. He looked to Jarlaxle. "Greetings! Back so soon?"

"Entreri interrupted my. . .work, Jarian," Jarlaxle said choosing his words carefully. "Tell him how to remove the spell."

Jarian sighed, "oh all right." He walked over to Entreri and whispered into his ear. Entreri recoiled and did his best to maintain a stoic expression that didn't belie his bewilderment.

"There," Jarlaxle said, thinking that he resolved the issue. "Now, you both will behave yourselves and not cause a disturbance in my hideout." He exited and Entreri stared at Jarian in disbelief. He was doomed.

Author's Note: I'm so very sorry that it took me a while to update. This fall semester at college has been filled with papers, exams, and work, oh my! But I did manage to find time to write this chapter, I swear it wrote itself (this is what happens after I write a satire for a class). I've also been to my first anime convention and since my group won a costuming award. . .I was sure to take note of all the fabric jargon that went on, as I learned about this magical crafting world. Of course, this is good news for Jarian. . .he's been giving me tips since day 1. . .seems I'm doomed just like Entreri.

::Jarian happily displays fabric::

::authoress gulps::

::Entreri hides under an ironing board::

::Jarlaxle strums his gourd::

Now my darling readers, a review would be appreciated. If you do, maybe you'll get a serenade from Jarlaxle. ::Jarlaxle names his price:: Erm. . . .::sweatdrop::. . . .skip that (on a random note, that song is part of a drow poem I composed). . .please review!!!! You guys rock!! THANK YOU!!! Hope everyone has a nice thanksgiving!!


	9. Removal of the Outfit

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

Entreri wanted to run after Jarlaxle, but he was determined to resolve the issue with Jarian on his own.

"That is hardly a spell to remove the outfit," Entreri said, glaring hell itself at Jarian.

Jarian flippantly shrugged. "It is a spell. Perhaps it is one that you have not come across yet in your travels."

"I highly doubt that," Entreri said folding his arms. He recalled Jarian's whispered words.

_To remove the spell, the spell caster must remove the objects that are responsible for the spell._

"You are not removing my clothing," Entreri said.

"But I must," Jarian said walking over to him, "unless you wish to wear that same outfit until your dying day. My outfits are very durable and in all honesty I want to see you in more of my outfits."

Entreri paused. _I'd have to wear this outfit for the rest of my life. . .in public! By the abyss I hate the drow, especially this one._

"If I agree to this-"

"When," Jarian said replacing the first word.

"_If_ I agree to this, you are to remove the outfit under _my_ terms," Entreri said. His warning tone would make even the most dreadful of drow give him space.

"I will!" Jarian skipped into the air and clapped enthusiastically. Tazolg squeaked happily on the other side of the room and flew in a somersault, causing Entreri to look back and forth between the two of them.

Entreri cleared his throat, causing Tazolg to float in mid-somersault and squeak in confusion. Jarian smiled and waited for instructions. "Okay, first, remove this hat from my head."

"But it's such a stunning col-"

"Jarian," Entreri said interrupting him, "hat, off, now!"

Jarian fanned his face with his hand. "Will you say those words when I have to remove your pants?" The image of Entreri screaming, '_pants, off, now!'_ got him rather excited.

"NO!"

"Damn," Jarian said with a sigh. He walked over and removed the hat, placing it gently onto a table at his side. "What's next my most beloved assassin?"

"The boots," Entreri said. He surmised that in order to maintain his sanity he should get the easy things out of the way.

Jarian complied and admirably restrained himself when he knelt down before Entreri. Sitting swiftly in a chair and folding his hands in his lap, Entreri crossed his legs and presented the first boot and then the second to Jarian.

With a smirk, "and next?"

"You're enjoying this too much."

"There's no such thing as too much," Jarian said trailing off with an even slyer smirk.

Entreri stiffened and took a breath, "Okay, the shirt is ne-"

Before Entreri could finish the sentenceJarian was behind Entreri's chair and wrapping his arms about the assassin to unlace the shirt. Entreri stood up quickly, narrowly missing Jarian's chin. "Not like that!"

Jarian put a hand on his hip. "Then how do you like it? Would you prefer the back or the stomach?"

Entreri paused for a long moment and chose his words carefully. "You will remove the shirt from the front."

"All right!" _So, he likes to be in control. . .I can arrange that._

Jarian slowly and meticulously unlaced the shirt, taking his time to glance at Entreri's chiseled chest. As he removed the shirt he gasped as Entreri's muscles flexed in rhythm to his quickened breathing. Every time he saw the assassin's bare skin, a shiver snaked up his spine and caused a tingle down below. Entreri's breathing quickened a little more, causing Jarian to smile, and reach out his hand.

Entreri's hand swiftly caught Jarian's wrist. "No touching."

"But-"

"NO."

Jarian sighed and allowed his eyes to drink up Entreri's bare chest and quench his thirst for desire. His eyes slowly drifted south . . .to Entreri's pants, recalling the filmy, slightly see-through underwear that lie beneath.

Entreri took a breath, "the belt."

Jarian's fingers fluttered in anticipation and he slowly approached Entreri, standing uncomfortably close.

"More distance."

Jarian took a baby step back and reached down, narrowly missing a certain something. He savored Entreri's shudder and proceeded to ever so slowly unclasp the belt at the golden buckle. As soon as the belt was removed Entreri took a giant step back and attempted to compose his thoughts.

"Well. . ."

With a shift Entreri wrestled with his inner thoughts. _This cannot be happening. The damn drow is practically salivating. _He paused in his thoughts. _Wait. . .if he was able to take off the spell by just removing a garment, then there's no need for removing them all!_

"That's enough," Entreri said backing away a little more.

"Ah ah ah, Artemis," Jarian said advancing with his hands outstretched, "we still have your pants to contend with."

"No, _we_ don't. _I_ do."

Now it was Jarian's turn to pause. "What do you mean?"

"To remove the spell you said that you have to remove the objects responsible. However, I noticed when I tried to remove my shirt that every other garment corresponded in constriction. Thus, if you remove but one garment, all the others correspond," Entreri said, victory in his corner.

"Are you so sure?"

Entreri tested his pants, by pulling on them at the waist. They didn't constrict and he smiled very slightly, before hiding it with a glare at Jarian who was too busy staring in awe.

"What?"

"You smiled."

"No I didn't," Entreri said with a shake of his head.

"Oh yes you did," Jarian said in a singsong voice. "My outfit made you smile."

"If there was any smile, it would be one of bloody vengeance. One that a demon has once it gluts its prey, after finding out that something tried to exercise deceit," Entreri said darkly.

Jarian sighed. "Why did I have to choose an _intelligent_ assassin?"

"I'm going to my chamber," Entreri said walking by him. "I expect privacy."

Watching him leave Jarian sighed even deeper. "Good looking _and_ intelligent. . .I'll have to step up my game."

As Entreri walked back to his chamber, Jarlaxle conveniently walked by and raised an eyebrow. "I see that you and Jarian are getting along famously."

"Jarlaxle, I hate you."

Tossing Entreri a cloak, "No, you really don't."

Entreri caught the cloak and threw it about his shoulders. "Thanks, but I still hate you." He walked down the corridor.

Jarlaxle folded his arms and chuckled, "the last thing we need is a certain part of your anatomy to get cold."

Entreri grimaced as he walked the other way and he called back, "I heard that." Nevertheless he pulled the cloak about himself tighter and continued his walk as Jarlaxle chuckled at the other end of the hallway.

Author's Note:bows head in apology: So sorry for the time it took on an update. School has been insane and I'm at a loss as to where my winter break fled too. But after finishing a paper, Jarian tied me to computer desk and forced me to write. I was rescued by Jarlaxle. . .but we won't get into that.

Anyway, as always thank you for the reviews. They are my lifeblood and I LOVE the comments. Welcome to new reviewers and shout outs to the regulars. If I end up doing a swift update (hey you never know), I think I'll have a lovely reviewer mailbag. :wink:

:hands out Valentines, candy, and flowers to the reviewers:

:Jarian walks over to her: "What are those?"

"Valentine's Day cards, it's almost here."

"Valentine's day?"

:authoress shifts and explains:

...:several minutes later:...

"Artemis is my Valentine!" :runs in search of Entreri shouting: "Artemis come out! I need to pierce you with my Cupid's arrow!"

:Jarlaxle walks in giving the authoress an amused look:

"You know that's not what I meant. . ." :authoress shifts slightly:

"Entreri is really going to kill you now."

:authoress shifts even more: "Maybe he can be bribed with chocolate?"

:Jarlaxle starts to chuckle: "Well, I suppose Jarian would be dark chocolate with a creamy filling."

"Gah! Jarlaxle! If Entreri hears us, we're BOTH doomed!"

:Entreri listens in his hiding place and moves them both up in his 'To Kill' list:


	10. Jarlaxle is up to something

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

Artemis Entreri was in bliss. He had enjoyed two days of absolute privacy with no interruption from Jarian. Mind you, if Jarian had heard of Entreri's situation being referred to as bliss, then he would have gotten far too excited for his own good. More than likely Jarian would have attempted to combine his bliss with Entreri's. . .and things would have just gotten messy. Fortunately for Entreri, he was the quiet sort. However, he was also the suspicious sort.

_Why has Jarian been so quiet? Is he up to something? Before he bothered me every few hours, using some excuse. . .no, I must not even think about that or him. Privacy is a pleasure that I delight in. . .and if Jarlaxle ever heard me think that, I would never hear the end of it. Well, since I've decided to think about Jarlaxle, he's been unusually. . .stagnant._

Entreri mused to himself quietly as he sipped his mushroom wine in a corner of the kitchen area. He had gone about his usual routine for the past few days with weapons training and various scouting missions. It had been a typical couple of days without being bothered and no matter how much he wanted to revel in it, every synapse in his mind screamed 'be wary! Something is not right!' Artemis Entreri did not listen to voices or his brain synapses, but he did listen to his instinct, the quiet assassin that lurked within, and it warned him to be vigilant and prepared.

A lithe drow walked over to him and sat across from Entreri, "Jarlaxle wishes to see you in his office."

Setting down his wine Entreri looked to the drow, "did he mention why?"

The drow suppressed a smirk, "No. He was quite secretive when I asked him. I do believe he had a vibrant outfit laid out for you."

Entreri glared daggers at the drow, "that's not amusing Navor."

Navor chuckled despite the assassin's glare. "Of course it is because it is not me. However, he does seem to be preparing for something and it seems to involve you."

Entreri went to drain the rest of his wine.

Navor smirked and asked, "so, dining alone without Jarian?"

Entreri nearly choked on his wine, but he swallowed it and maintained himself admirably. "If you're not careful Navor you will find my sabre in your flesh."

The drow laughed, "you should be so very careful with your words dear human. If a certain tailor heard that, I have a feeling he'd polish your sabre himself and see to it that it found itself in his flesh."

Entreri suppressed the urge to vomit, but his eyes glinted. "Careful Navor, I just may have to mention to Jarian that you want a new outfit."

The drow visibly twitched. "Sometimes I wonder about you human. You are more drow-like than you appear, perhaps that it why Jarian is enamored of you."

Entreri stood. "Don't remind me." Taking a breath he went to seek out Jarlaxle to find out exactly what that mercenary leader wanted.

Jarlaxle sat in his office, flipping through the crisp pages of a tome on his desk. When Entreri entered his office he let loose his typical Jarlaxle smile. "Greetings Entreri, why don't you ever enter my office with a smile? You always look so glum."

Ignoring his question Entreri simply stated, "you're up to something."

Jarlaxle feigned surprise. "Whatever would make you say such a thing?"

"I know you far too well for my own good," Entreri said with a hint of derision in his voice. "You have also been far too quiet these past few days."

Jarlaxle smirked and thought, _you could know me more. However, Jarian would be quite jealous._

Entreri rolled his eyes as if Jarlaxle's thoughts were vocalized. After this long, Entreri could observe the expressions on Jarlaxle's face that hinted to the subtle perversions that the mercenary leader entertained in his mind. It was one of the few times he wished he wasn't so observant. "What do you want Jarlaxle?"

"A new harem of exotic-"

Entreri cut his desire off with a warning tone as sharp as a scimitar. "_Jarlaxle_. . ."

"Right, what I want from you," Jarlaxle settled back into his chair. "I wish to expand my repertoire of mercantile goods on the Surface."

"Go on," Entreri said settling himself in a seat opposite of Jarlaxle. This seemed safe so far.

"It has come to my attention that the city of Waterdeep is having quite the display of the latest clothing and fashions from around the Realms. I have been asked to represent the innovations that the drow are designing and to send my best tailor to display his wares. If all is a success then I can establish Bregan D'aerthe in this area of dealing, thus furthering my connection with those on the Surface and the amount of coin in my pouch."

Entreri started getting a very bad feeling about this plan. "Your best tailor?"

"Jarian of course," Jarlaxle said with an air of pride, "those who tailor me are only the best."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Jarian requires a bodyguard, someone with knowledge of the city, and someone who is not a drow, so as not to frighten the common folk," Jarlaxle trailed off staring at Entreri.

Entreri stood. "I refuse."

"You cannot refuse this mission Entreri," Jarlaxle said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Do not forget that you are indebted to me and must remain an active member of Bregan D'aerthe until I deem your use at an end."

Resisting the urge to kill Jarlaxle, "I'm not going alone with him."

Jarlaxle laughed breaking his serious behavior, "of course not! He'd never get anything done if he was left alone with you." He stood and walked over to the assassin. "He requested you specifically and you are the most qualified. I will see that you have your privacy and I will be present on the Surface when I am needed. I am sending a contingency of guards to secure the rooms we've been given and also some servants to carry Jarian's mobile tailoring room."

Entreri seemed to forget about the fact that he was to be Jarian's personal guard for the briefest of moments. "He has a mobile tailoring room?"

"As I said before, he is the best," Jarlaxle said with a twinkle in his eye. "Ready yourself Entreri, you leave with the coming of tomorrow."

Entreri bowed his head and left Jarlaxle's office with an unsettling feeling in his stomach. This was not good.

Jarian happily twirled about his tailoring room with a bolt of fabric, making it dance behind him as if it were a cloaked partner. "My work will soon be the talk of the Realms!"

Tazolg's white fur glowed fuchsia and fluttered its fairy wings excitedly. Jarian pat the little flying mouse's head. "And you my little darling will look simply luminescent in the Surface light."

Tazolg tilted its head and squeaked softly at Jarian, as if it was inquiring about something.

"Oh don't worry about that," Jarian said. "I can look stunning in the Surface light and not hurt my eyes, I have an outfit for that." He paused and imagined Entreri in the light. . .the image making him salivate. He would have his fun on the Surface. . .and he would have it in more ways than one.

Author's Note: It seems that I will just have to keep apologizing for the lateness of chapters. I was going to update and then I got sick, then exams, then an Anime convention trip. . .but hah! With my summer break in full swing, I am determined to write. The Surface idea has been brewing in my brain for months now and it just seemed so right to post now. Flowers are blooming, birds are singing. . .

Entreri: Please don't talk about blooming flowers. . .Jarian and Jarlaxle are standing right behind you.

Authoress: Oh please, they would have said it sooner or later.

Entreri:mutters:

Please review. . .if you do, you'll get a pretty bunch flowers from either….:

a) Entreri :he mutters and holds out a bouquet of carnations at arm's length, muttering 'assassins don't hold flowers':

b) Jarian :he grins and tosses petals into the air, posing languidly over a rock, a rose stem clutched between his teeth and a bouquet of them lying on his chest:

c) Jarlaxle :he smiles smoothly, running an orchid down his bare chest, his eyes looking over to a bed where the rest of the bouquet is lying as he pours a glass of wine:

d) The Authoress :she smiles and waves, edging away from the guys, lightly touching lilac petals with her fingers before presenting the bouquet:


	11. Preparation for the Surface

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

_Weapons. . .check._

_Currency. . .check._

_Traveling essentials. . .check._

_Appropriate documents. . .check._

_Mobile tailoring room, outfitted with splendid array of fashion. . ._

"That would be a check," a voice said over Artemis Entreri's shoulder.

The assassin didn't bother to turn when he heard Jarlaxle's voice. The drow had the eyes of a predatory bird, without his infrared vision. Entreri was trying to inventory all of their supplies for the Surface venture. Placing the quill back into the container of ink at his side, he read through the list a second time.

"I have it right here Artemis!"

Now Entreri had no desire to turn as he heard the next voice. That meant Jarian was standing next to Jarlaxle. So, if he didn't turn, maybe they would go away. Unfortunately for Entreri, he was not so lucky and turned to face his fates.

Jarlaxle displayed the mobile tailoring room as Jarian held it out proudly in his hands. A few servants clapped, obviously entranced by the bejeweled chest that shined like mithril in the moonlight.

Entreri stared. "Your tailoring room looks like a jewelry chest."

"That is the beauty of it, my most treasured assassin," Jarian said as he set it down before Entreri. "I trigger the magical sigils on the side and it transforms into a room filled with all of my tailoring desires." Quietly to Entreri, "I can also modify it to be a room to fulfill other aspects of my desires."

"Now now Jarian," Jarlaxle said with an almost paternal tone, "what have I told you about this Surface trip?"

Jarian sighed. "I know, business first and play later."

Entreri had since taken several steps back. He had no intention of fulfilling any desires. And he was _not_ the 'play' for later. "If you two are finished with your unsubtle insinuations; it would be conducive to depart for the Surface now. The Waterdeep guards will not view our entrance at the gate as suspicious by the time we arrive and we can set a security perimeter in the trading sector to safeguard our assets."

Jarlaxle nodded. "See Jarian, a man who knows about business first." Walking past Entreri, he said in a low voice so only the assassin could hear, "but really needs to know about 'play' later."

A glare worthy of a demon from the hells met Jarlaxle's back. The mercenary leader approached a stone archway, with various runes etched on its rocky exterior. It was hidden on the outskirts of Menzoberranzan, unbeknownst to those of the city, save for the members of Bregan D'aerthe who utilized it for various trading ventures.

Entreri forced his glare to lessen so he wouldn't do anything rash and his gaze settled on the drow that flanked Jarian. They did not appear to be guards because of their unusual dress. In fact, they almost seemed to match Jarian's turquoise outfit, with much less clothing.

Jarian, whose eyes had barely left Entreri since his arrival, noticed Entreri surveying the drow about him. "Observant as always Artemis," Jarian said with pleasure in his voice. "These are my personal servants. They will be modeling my outfits for the fashion display."

The three drow behind Jarian bowed their heads simultaneous as their master referred to them. They each wore linen loincloths that wrapped around their legs, between their knees and waist. The loincloth appeared to be secured only by a tucked in twist, perhaps implying that the outfit was easy to remove if need be. Jarian's needs implied such a convenient outlet of removal. The half-drow were all strikingly attractive and their bodies were chiseled statues of muscle, shining from freshly rubbed oil.

Entreri hated it when he was far too observant for his own good.

Jarian smiled to his servants. "Well, go on and introduce yourselves to Artemis. He's the one I've told you so much about."

"Entreri, not Artemis," the assassin said darkly.

The drow to Entreri's left walked over to Entreri. He positioned his left arm behind his back as he bowed to the assassin, leading the bow with his right hand. "Well met Master Entreri, I am Kaifas. Master Jarian has told us much about you. I am interested to see if what he says is true." His peridot eyes sparkled as he glanced southerly to Entreri.

Entreri shifted. "Greetings Kaifas."

The drow to the right stepped forward, his sapphire eyes shining. "We shall just have to see for ourselves. While I do not doubt our Master's words, a mere human cannot match the expertise of the drow."

The drow from the middle gave the drow a stern look. "Now Shytolin, Master Entreri's state as a human does not make him lesser than us. You are just jealous." The drow turned to Entreri, his silver eyes filled with sympathy, unusual for a half-drow. "Forgive the envious Shytolin, he guards Master Jarian's well being as well as he does his own bedroom secrets."

Entreri fought the urge for his jaw to drop. He didn't want to know what kind of servants these half-drow were or what they modeled for Jarian. Composing himself, "it's all right. I have encountered worse."

The drow bowed his head. "I am Maskah, at your service."

Entreri didn't like the way he said service, but he bowed his head. The way Jarian was eyeing the four of them together was making him uncomfortable. "Greetings." He looked around quickly and spotted Jarlaxle preparing their traveling method. "I'm going to assist Jarlaxle."

Jarlaxle suppressed a laugh as Entreri walked quickly over to him. He ignored the assassin as he reached into a pouch at his belt. He sprinkled soil from the Surface about the archway and then placed black gloves on his hands. He traced the runes on the archway, his fingers extending into shadowy tendrils as he levitated to reach the runes on the uppermost part of the arch. When his boots hit the ground he clapped his hands together and chanted, each rune glowing the various colors of a spectrum. After a few moments the interior of the archway emitted a burst of cold air, filling with a soft blue light that rippled like water as Jarlaxle ran his fingers through it.

"Your transportation is ready," Jarlaxle said, turning to see Entreri, having no doubt the assassin memorized every aspect of what he had just done. "It will take you to the outskirts of Waterdeep. From there you have the map of where you are to stay. Scouts have already been sent ahead and I will arrive in due time. Protecting Jarian and his assets is your main priority."

"Of course, I will do what is necessary to protect him," Entreri said with a bow of his head.

"I have no doubt of that," Jarlaxle said. He then handed Entreri a silver ring, laden with a small inscription.

"What is this for?"

"It provides a disguise," Jarlaxle said. "The infamous Artemis Entreri at a fashion display would be rather suspicious. I wouldn't want to ruin your reputation. It will provide an illusion to those who are not members of Bregan D'aerthe."

Entreri hesitated for a moment, but placed the band around his right index finger. "What exactly will I look like?"

Jarlaxle just smirked.

"_Jarlaxle_. . ."

"Have a nice journey!" He walked away waving.

Entreri mumbled, "He avoided answering my question. This doesn't bode well at all."

With a wave of his hand the group went through the archway. Entreri leading the way, Bregan D'aerthe soldiers at his sides. Jarian attempted to loop his arm around Entreri's, but the assassin shrugged him off, so the tailor decided to walk arm in arm with his two servants, the third one stroking his head from behind as Jarian pouted about Entreri's serious demeanor.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Well, one month for an update is much better than several. It was all a matter of waiting for inspiration to strike and it did. . .in the shape of Jarian's servants/models. There's more to them than meets the eye. As for their outfits, I describe them as. . . 'Egyptian, but Jarian.' The pieces are set on the sava board and they're off to Waterdeep. I've done some research on the city, so hopefully in the chapters to follow it'll be relatively accurate. More of Jarian's past and personality will be unveiled soon. I'll also go more in depth on his half-elf servants, but their names fit their personalities.

_Maskah_: drow name referring to beauty, silver, hair, and style

_Kaifas_: an Arabic name, meaning high spirits and pleasure

_Shytolin_: drow name referring to being skilled and lustful

So for those of you wondering, 'why hasn't Jarian gotten Entreri into his bed yet?' well, let's just say his 'servants' do more than 'model' outfits. . .so our Jarian is quite the happy drow.

As for Entreri's disguise, you'll just have to wait and see about that. :wink:

_Entreri_ :groans: That doesn't reassure me!

_Jarlaxle_ :looks hurt: What? You don't trust me!

_Entreri _:glares at Jarlaxle: No.

_Jarian_ :gazes in rapture at Entreri:

_Authoress_ :chuckles and smiles slyly, pointing to the review button:

:Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin pose, 'Charlie's Angels style' near the review button:

:Jarlaxle and Jarian clap, while Entreri shakes his head muttering "drow":

A big THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed!

Just for that, a **reviewer mailbag** has been a long time in coming! So here it is:

(Feel free to check back on your reviews to see what in the nine hells I'm referring to, lol. Hopefully I'll be able to do this more often. For now I'll limit the responses to chapter 10)

**Becky: **Mission accomplished. . .erm, nothing. As for icing on the cake, Jarian asks, "can Entreri be the icing and myself the cake? It'd make a delicious dessert!"

:whispers: Personally, I'd be more worried about Jarian jumping out of a cake. . .

**Oracle 10: **I've registered; all I need to do now is create a character sheet for Jarian. All in due time for that though.

**Ariel D: **That's one of my favorite quotes too from that chapter, lol. :hands over more flowers:

**Tiggermyk: **No worries, I won't give up on this story. . .mostly because Jarian has decide to become a muse of sorts, along with Jarlaxle. So with both of them on my back, it's hard not to continue. :pause: Wow that sounds wrong. . .:gives both drow a dark look as they snicker:

**Spider: **Thanks for the encouragement. I've been asked repeatedly to mention Jarian to RAS, but I think I'll hold off for a bit, lol.

**Lessiehanamoray: **Entreri needs all the pity he can get right now. And I'll try my hardest to update more.

**Liriel**:wink: Glad I could provide you with the yummy image. If only someone could draw that. . .

**Euphorbic: **:returns bow: Jarian is highly pleased, lol. As for groans and laughs, I'll second that. I feel so bad about what I do to Entreri, but it's far too much fun for its own good. :whispers: Don't tell Entreri I said that. . .he'll kill me for sure and then I wouldn't be able to update! Well, unless I was resurrected or something.

**Lena Silverwing**:waves to Kellindil and Drizzt: Careful that Jarian doesn't see you. . .but oh yes, Jarian is cooking up ideas as we speak. And with the added help of his three servants, well things may get interesting.

**Altebar: **Gracias por sus palabras sobre mi cuento. :grin: I also like the short translations for comrades of mine who don't understand Spanish.

**LPdarkstorm**: Yeah, it just didn't seem right without Jarlaxle coming to the Surface. He has to personally represent Bregan D'aerthe of course and stop Jarian from doing anything rash. And yes, the mobile tailoring room was surprise, but it seemed so. . .right for Jarian.

**Psyco101**:Entreri tries to run off to hide with the nice reviewer, but the authoress restrains him, until he promises to return for the next update: Oh all right Entreri, but you're lucky I'm in a nice mood. :he responds that she's lucky to be alive: Good point. . .

**Jack**: Glad you've enjoyed the story so far. Entreri and Jarlaxle are such intriguing characters.


	12. Gates of Waterdeep

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

Traveling by magic always made Entreri a little uneasy. Traveling with drow, such as Jarian and his entourage, made him more than just a little uneasy. Journeying via teleportation magic involved walking through a cold, blue mist-like substance or at least that's what Entreri thought. He was too focused on the journey before him to give his walk through magical portals metaphoric imagery. He emerged from the blue light, as the archway reconfigured itself between two large rock formations, outside of the city of Waterdeep.

Once the entire group was through, the archway appeared to dissolve into dust. Entreri took a breath, smelling rain in the air, and noted that the sky was cloudy. Even though the sun could not penetrate past the clouds, save for a few rays, the drow hid under the cowls of their robes.

Jarian was the exception as he took out a large hat from one of his pockets. How he managed to pull that big thing out of such a little space caused Entreri to stare, until he rationalized the pocket as a magical void to store items. Jarian placed the magenta hat on his head and grinned as he pulled down a veil.

"The point is not to be noticed Jarian," Entreri said as he folded his arms.

"On the contrary," Jarian said, "the point _is_ to be noticed." He nodded to Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin who pulled out similar hats. "This will become all the rage on the Surface. These veils prevent the harsh sunlight from damaging skin and sensitive eyes. Also, the darker shade the color of the hat becomes, the later in the day it is, meaning that it is nearing sunset here on the Surface."

"You are correct," Entreri said, "but I knew that without having to wear a hat."

"No, your hat does something else," Jarian said slyly, recalling that the hat he had Entreri wear previously reflected his emotions.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Jarian said quickly.

With a glare Entreri said, "and that answer is precisely why I am not wearing that hat."

"Shame, it suited you so," Jarian said sullenly.

Maskah whispered to Kaifas, "you know what they say about mercenaries with big hats?"

Kaifas smirked, "they have long feathers?"

Shytolin was half-paying attention. "I thought that meant mercenaries have big-"

A glare to rival a drow priestess' caused Shytolin to go quiet. Apparently Entreri's listening skills had heightened and he was none to pleased about the whispered conversation. Jarian had a wide grin on his face, causing Entreri to turn around and set an even swifter pace to get to the city gates. He had absently thought, _Jarlaxle always seems to have big hats with long feathers._

The group joined the line of caravans waiting to enter the city. The Waterdhavian guards questioned all who entered the city. They were an intimidating presence to those unaccustomed to soldiers. Black scale mail was clad to their forms and guards patrolled the walls on warhorses, under the watchful eyes of the many guard towers that lined the walls.

Entreri signaled to the guards in the group and with a discrete nod they disappeared into the darkness. Jarlaxle had chosen the stealthiest of soldiers to accompany the group. He had given the drow directions to one of the most secret entrances of the city; utilized by mercenaries who did not wish to have their weapons confiscated by the city guard or watch. However, even the most vigilant system of justice could not prevent weapons from being smuggled into the city.

A city guard motioned the group forward and Entreri approached him, expecting the guard to check his weapon. Instead, the guard stared at the assassin, glancing back to the veiled group, and then back to Entreri.

After the guard composed himself he said, "State your business in the city of Waterdeep."

"We are here for the Fashion Display," Entreri said, handing over the appropriate documents. The guard stared at Entreri for a moment before taking the papers and reviewing them with another guard. Entreri raised an eyebrow at the guard's actions and heard soft snickering from behind. He glanced down to his hand and to the silver ring about his finger. It almost seemed to sparkle in reply. _By the hells, what kind of disguise did Jarlaxle create for me?_

He pushed that thought aside as the guard finished stamping the documents, with the official seal of the city, to allow them to pass. He motioned for Jarian and the three servants to follow him as he navigated his way through the chaos of the gate. Pickpockets often lined the walls, hoping to take advantage of weary travelers, but Entreri had a sharp eye and drow were not likely to be pickpocketed unless the thief wanted an early death.

A guard in black whispered to a guard in gold, "Is that the latest in fashion?"

The guard in gold shook his head. "I hope not. I've seen unusual outfits, but those certainly are the most unusual. Sometimes I just don't understand the nobility's fascination for clothing."

The guard in black chuckled, "personally I prefer no clothes as all."

"You frequent the brothels too often, don't let the Captain hear about that," the guard in gold said, rolling his eyes.

Jarian gasped in delight. There was so much activity on the Surface and he was tempted to lift the veil in order to have a better view. A warning look from Entreri changed his mind, but he did savor teasing the assassin. He looked back to his three servants who were treading cautiously, unaccustomed to the variety of species that were not in chains.

Maskah suppressed the urge to touch the creatures around him. There were humans, elves, and halflings just. . .living. "They're everywhere, how do they manage to keep control without slavery?"

Kaifas interceded, "I have heard that there is a class system that the commoners follow."

Shytolin scoffed, "and they simply follow the system without enforcement?"

Entreri overheard them talking. "The city is a hub of trading where creatures from all over agree to negotiate, tolerating each other. The city guard oversees gate entry and the city watch patrols the city streets to enforce the laws set forth by the Magisters."

Jarian nodded with Entreri. "Jarlaxle told me that there are many groups in the city. There are Lords who oversee everything, factions of nobility, a merchant class, and adventurers that all live together in a precarious balance."

Entreri couldn't help but nod with Jarian. He was agreeing with the drow, this couldn't be happening. Maybe the fact that he knew this knowledge was a fluke, but there was more to this drow than just being a simple tailor. "Correct."

Jarian twirled about happily, "if I am correct, then what is my reward?"

"Your reward is that you possess an inkling of knowledge outside of fabric and fashion," Entreri said, shoving a poor vendor who happened to be in his way to the side.

Jarian sighed dramatically. "That is hardly a reward." Walking beside Entreri, "where are we going?"

"You have all this knowledge of the city, but you do not know where we are going?" Entreri looked to him pointedly.

Jarian shifted and absently played with his veil.

Entreri suppressed a large sigh. "We are making our way to the Trades Ward. 'The Unicorn's Horn' is the Inn where other tailors are gathering and also the Inn where Jarlaxle has ordered us to convene. I believe he will personally register at Costumer's Hall, where the display will take place. If all goes well, our guards should already be at the Inn and Jarlaxle will be present in the morning to impress his presence on the registering representative."

Jarian smiled. "He has a way with the ladies. I have heard that the Lady Master of the Order cannot resist his charm."

"I do not wish to hear about Jarlaxle's _charm_," Entreri said quickening the pace.

"Then I'll tell you about my charm," Jarian said, quickening his pace to match Entreri's. He ran a finger down Entreri's arm, "better yet, I'll show you."

Entreri shrugged him off, ordering the three servants behind them to quicken their pace.

Jarian looked to the three servants and they consoled him accordingly as they followed the assassin. Of course, when these three drow and Jarian were involved, consolation entailed the promise of a nice massage, a sensuous bath, and a little something extra later that evening as they smoothed Jarian's hair and rubbed his back reassuringly. Whether the consolation was with them or Entreri all depended on Jarian's ability to catch the assassin off guard.

**Author's Note: **All right, not a lot of action in this chapter. . .sorry Jarian, but I had to give Entreri some kind of break. I'm not completely heartless, then again :chuckles: there are future chapters I have in store, which will make this chapter seem like a blessing to our most lovable assassin. But expect some action for the next chapter. . .which hopefully shall be updated within a week's time.

I felt like being a tease for this chapter about Entreri's disguise. Guess you could say Jarian was involved with that, but very soon we shall see what Entreri's disguise entails. And no worries, Jarlaxle will be back for the next chapter. :grins and winks: However, I swear that drow is always present. He gets referred to enough.

This chapter was mostly informational. I tried to gather what research I could about Waterdeep to make it feasible. I also gave some hintings to future events to come. :wink: And let me tell you, I'm laughing thinking about the things I have up my sleeve.

_Entreri_:gives authoress a dark look and threatens her with his sabre: You're teasing me like Jarian. . .I don't like that.

_Authoress_:sweatdrop: This is an informational chapter and besides, your reputation would be in ruins if you were seen with them. :motions to Jarian, Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin, who are painting the review button pretty colors:

_Jarlaxle_: Yeah, so don't kill the authoress:pause: That's an order Entreri.

_Entreri_:releases authoress: You're lucky. :smirks: Now you owe Jarlaxle. . .:walks away:

_Authoress_:composes self: I _owe_ Jarlaxle, that's not good. :Jarlaxle whispers in her ear and she blanches: Great. . .just bloody great.

Anyway, once the paint dries on the review button, be sure to drop a review!

Reviewer Mailbag 

**SilverWolf7**: Well, now that I have to take the three models out of the closet for the story. . . :trails off: Glad you like Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin, believe me. . .they will get some eye candy descriptions later. As for their tastes, well candy tastes sweet no matter who takes a bite. :wink:

**Becky**: You'll have to wait a little bit more to find out what exactly Entreri's disguise is, but at least now you know for sure it isn't normal. Then again, if Jarlaxle is involved, it just can't be normal.

**Psycho101:** Ask and you shall receive a quick post:is so proud of herself: As for Entreri, I think he needs all the support he can get. And rest assured, more Waterdeep antics to come. :sigh emanates from Entreri:

**Lena Silverwing**: Yeah, I almost feel sorry for Entreri too. :giggles: Yum! Popcorn:goes to take some and munches on it happily:

:Jarian takes some and tosses some into the mouths of his three servants:

**Lord Onisyr**: I'm glad that you like Jarian. As for Entreri's reactions I can sometimes picture them so vividly that they make me burst out laughing. I'd like to say Entreri is succeeding in hiding his emotions (ex: annoyance, anger, etc), but with what I have in store for him. . .I'm simply testing his abilities to shield his emotions.

**LPdarkstorm**: Entreri agrees with you, but he's unwilling to admit that he's scared of the servants as well. I suppose the servants are good because they keep Jarian occupied, but the downfall is that they can also encourage and assist Jarian in plotting against Entreri.

**Abbil**: Welcome! Sometimes I can't believe what I do either. Entreri's twitches make me chuckle (don't tell Entreri I said that) and no worries about being off topic. :wink: As for your mental picture. . . :smiles ever so deviously and mysteriously:

**Tiggermyk**: Glad I can bring a laugh. As for giving up on stories, I've been there, but the intent to finish is always at the back of my mind. It seems sometimes that other stories just beg to be written in their stead. As for the muses, yeah. . .they make things interesting for Entreri.

**Jack**: Yep, trying to keep aspects of the Forgotten Realms is tricky, but fun all at the same time. Hence my Waterdeep research, lol. As for the character, sounds intriguing. . .

**Spider**: They've reached the Surface and now the mischief will ensue. All about business first and play later. :wink:

**Arsinoe Selene**: I wouldn't say I'm mean to Entreri :Entreri glares at her: all right, so I put him through a lot. An assassin must always be prepared for the unexpected. As for Jarlaxle. . .he's questionable. I wouldn't be surprised if he walked in the middle of the street, sampling both genders and species as a platter in his pleasure cuisine. :blinks: Did I just write that? JARLAXLE:Jarlaxle ignores the authoress, highly amused by the reviewer:

**Lessiehanamoray**: Oh, don't worry Entreri will find out about his disguise when everyone else does. It just doesn't seem fair to have everyone else know and not him. :grin: I'm glad that you appreciate the effort I put in to choosing names, it's nice to meet another author who does likewise. Sometimes it just fits.

**Ariel D**:sprinkles flower petals about the comment and conjures a wind, making a nice windswept/animesque flower petal effect: Well, since you asked so nicely with a 'please' I'll just have to keep the updates coming.

**Snow**: I doubt Jarian would kill you, he's probably pout a little and find another way to make you squirm if he heard you didn't like his outfit. Thank you for your kind words and I'm happy that you made the effort to read it in one piece. I do that every so often and set myself into a fit of giggles. You're welcome and I hope to see more reviews by you. :wink:

**Oracle10**:watches Oracle bounce around the walls, chuckling: All a matter of time.

**Katherine**: No worries about hilarity, it will ensue to be sure. As for short chapters, I was debating making this chapter a bit longer, but it'd ruin the flow and Jarian absolutely insisted that I tease the reviewers. But tell you what; I'll attempt to make the next chapter a bit longer for you. :wink: And yep, RAS is R.A. Salvatore, if I'm forced enough by people I may mention to him. I have to admit, Jarian has a special place in my heart.

:blush: You're jealous? I'll admit it took me years to fine-tune my skills, but the more you read the more you develop your skills as a writer. (Take it from me, I'm an English major) You'll definitely get better!


	13. Entreri's Disguise Revealed

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

Ebony hands lifted a crystalline vial, lifting the cap to lightly dab a fragrance on a smooth neck. They carefully added a few careful drops onto the palms, working the liquid to the fingers, and they gently massaged the oil onto a clean-shaven head. Skin became soft yet firm to the touch.

Jarlaxle smiled to the mirror, deeply inhaling the rich scent. The amber drifted into his nostrils, the woodsy scent foreshadowing his immanent Surface travel. The hint of a floral aroma, added from his own carefully maintained gardens in the darkness, created a tremulous balance between his dealings above and below the Surface. Jarlaxle chose his scent like he chose his business ventures, both had pleasing odors and made him look good, or in the case of the scent, smell good.

He smiled to the half-elf from his harem. Desire was emanating from her body, but he lightly kissed her hand. "Later my darling, I have another to attend."

She bowed her head and almost seemed to pout when Jarlaxle waved her away with a dismissive hand.

Jarlaxle rose from his chair and examined his figure in the mirror. Scarlet was the color of the evening as he ran a hand along his tightly clad outfit. Placing a large matching hat on his head, he winked to his image. Picking up a long purple feather, he lightly traced a rune on the mirror's surface. Upon replacing the feather back onto his hat he softly chanted and the mirror rippled in reply. Entering his personal transportation gateway, he set out to Waterdeep.

Alura Tarbrossen, representative of the Order of Master Tailors, Glovers, and Mercers, brushed her long auburn locks with an ivory-toothed comb. She inhaled and a small smile peeked at her lips, upon smelling a familiar scent.

Fingers, the color of the midnight sky, gently pried the comb from her hand and started brushing her hair.

"Greetings Jarlaxle," she said. In an amused tone, "your entrance is as silent and mysterious as ever."

"Anything to maintain my reputation," he said, placing the comb to the side.

"Anything?" She turned to look at him, a 'come hither' look in her eyes.

"Of course," Jarlaxle chuckled, as he tipped his hat to her, running a finger along the feather. "You're alluring as ever my dear, your name suits you well."

"Indeed," she said, absently smoothing her gossamer gown. "However, I know that you must want something regarding the Fashion Display."

"I merely wish to know _everything_," he said approaching her. He ran his finger along her jaw line, letting his eyes lock into hers, "And I was hoping that you would enlighten me."

"You still need to register in the morning Jarlaxle, but I suppose I can enlighten you. Is there anything else you want?"

Jarlaxle smiled widely, removing his hat to hang it on Alurra's bedpost.

"It seems our desires lie on the same string of thread," she said trailing off, "I will have to push back registration a few hours."

"Make that several hours," Jarlaxle said with a sly grin. He savored the blush that spread over her cheeks, absently wondering if there was anything Jarian could do to make Entreri blush.

_Pleasure now, _Jarlaxle said to remind himself of the moment, _amusement later._

Jarian practically skipped through the streets and his servants followed his example. Their collective excitement and parade-like prances failed however to excite the stoic assassin. The flamboyant tailor had a substantial influence on Jarlaxle's disguise for Entreri. He had provided the outfit, while Jarlaxle provided the other aspects of the disguise. Thinking of Entreri's reaction caused him to break out into a fit of laughter.

"Is something amusing, Jarian?" Entreri was close to convulsing with rage. Of course you couldn't tell this fact unless you were empathic because the assassin's face was still as a statue, save for a small twitch of a nerve by his temple.

"Many a thing Artemis," Jarian said, then as if he realized something funny he whispered to his servants and they burst out laughing.

Entreri caught the word 'Artemesia' and froze.

_Oh by the hells no. . ._

Reaching out a hand he grabbed a young pickpocket by the scruff of his collar.

"I. . .I'm sorry!" The boy wriggled in Entreri's grasp. "I was made to do it! Please don't tell the Watch!"

"If I catch you again you'll have more to worry about then the Watch," Entreri growled.

"Damn Lady," the boy said, "you sure are menacing."

Entreri dropped the boy out of shock. "What did you call me?"

The boy scrambled away. "Nothing bad ma'am. I don't see many warriors dressed like you."

_Lady! Ma'am!_

Artemis Entreri was pissed.

Artemis Entreri was beyond mortified.

Artemis Entreri was going to kill someone.

Jarian absently backed into his three servants as the assassin slowly turned to regard them. His heart couldn't help but flutter wildly.

_Artemis looks positively livid! I never knew eyes could darken at such a passionate intensity. . ._

Kaifas whispered, "Master Jarian, perhaps we should not laugh at the human."

Maskah nodded and whispered, "It seems he is not keen about being a woman."

Shytolin couldn't help but stare and forgetting to whisper, "but he makes such a pretty woman."

Kaifas and Maskah pounced on Shytolin to silence him and Jarian stood before them, smiling to Entreri. "Don't be so angry Artemis, Jarlaxle had to make a convincing disguise."

"I can disguise myself," Entreri said as he went to pull off the ring. Unfortunately the ring would not budge from his finger. He muttered in a feral tone, "_Jarlaxle_."

Jarian blinked as he walked over to Entreri. "The ring doesn't come off?"

"No, it does not." Entreri glared, for all he knew Jarian was a perpetrator behind the ring's inability to be released from his finger. He had not forgotten when Jarian made clothes that could only be removed by Jarian. "But let me guess, Jarlaxle is the only one who can remove it?"

"More than likely," Jarian said. With a sly smile, "but I can always try."

Entreri stiffened. "No, that's quite all right." He walked to a nearby alley.

"Come now Artemis, you can either let me touch you or you can remain a woman. Personally I like you better as a man, unless you're hiding something," Jarian said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Entreri fought the urge to reach for the sabre at his side, but paused wondering what it looked like in the disguise, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Remove the ring if you can," he said extending his hand. His desire not to be a woman overshadowed his revulsion of being touched by the drow.

Jarian seductively made his way over to Entreri, taking Entreri's hand into his own. He lightly traced his finger down Entreri's wrist to the ring and gave it a light pull. Nothing happened, so he pulled again. He repeated the movements, hoping to loosen the ring, and to prolong the moment between him and Entreri.

Maskah and Kaifas were entwined in each other's arms as they peeked into the alley. Shytolin stared in jaw-slackened fascination at the pair.

Maskah whispered, "oh me oh my, is Jarian finally having is way with the assassin?"

Kaifas absently stroked Maskah's hair, "I think perhaps he portends delights to come."

"I enjoy delights," Shytolin said, a devilish glint in his eyes, "mayhap we will all receive some tonight. The assassin knows not what he misses."

Entreri pulled away from Jarian. "That's enough!"

"You're only making m-. . ., I mean this harder Artemis!" Jarian advanced on him.

Entreri unsheathed his sabre and Jarian burst out into laughter.

"Oh Artemis, if only you could see yourself!" Jarian paused, a thoughtful look on his face. He placed a hand on his hip and raised the other to snap his fingers. "Bring me my mobile tailoring room!"

Shytolin rushed over to Jarian's side, placing the chest on the ground. Jarian stroked his servant's cheek fondly before walking over to the chest. He knelt before it and softly chanted. He opened the chest and the inside appeared to be a black void. Reaching his hand inside he proceeded to pull out an entire full-length mirror.

Entreri stared at the display, not quite knowing what to say.

"Come here Artemis and view feminine beauty that only you can display," Jarian said, presenting the mirror with outstretched hands.

Entreri stood still for several moments, not quite sure if he really wanted to see what Jarlaxle had done to him. Curiosity, and the fact that he wanted motivation to kill Jarlaxle, prompted him to view his image in the mirror.

The image that awaited him made him sick to his stomach.

A longhaired, full breasted, female beauty stared back at Entreri. And to make matters worse, this beauty was wearing a scantily clad outfit that matched Jarian and his entourage. Entreri looked to his feet where glittering golden sandals adorned his feet, their strings secure about his calves. As his eyes roamed up, the outfit did not bode well. A very high cyan-colored skirt met his eyes, a filmy veil extending from his waist to his knees.

The outfit grew even worse as it went upward. A fish net half-shirt met his eyes next and he saw far too much skin for his own liking, again, filmy veil did not leave much to the imagination. He stared at the magenta feathered hairpiece atop his head in abject horror.

"I prefer you better as a man," Jarian said, pouting slightly. "However, if it is any consolation, you do make a rather fetching female."

"I prefer to be a man too," Entreri said, barely getting out the words. He felt slightly faint when he stared at the makeup on his face. His hand tightened on his sabre and he paled as he saw his sabre. . .it had been affected as well.

His sabre's blade matched his magenta hairpiece and the hilt was adorned with . . .cyan ribbons. He held the sword out before him, looking from it and back to the mirror.

_My sword has ribbons. . .Jarlaxle must die._

Jarian recognized the murderous glint in Entreri's eyes and to preserve his leader's well being he said, "Well, Jarlaxle did say you may not be accustomed to such an elaborate disguise, so I have a backup outfit piece."

Entreri didn't know how much he could take, but he was slightly relieved when he saw Jarian pull out a black cloak.

However, his relief was dashed to pieces when he saw the back adorned with a spiral colored array of cyan and magenta.

Jarian presented it to him with his overly naïve smile. Entreri reluctantly sheathed his sword and shakily accepted it. He put the cloak on and pulled it about his form, folding his arms so his scantily clad outfit was relatively hidden.

"Jarlaxle and I need to have a talk," Entreri said darkly, "so put away the mirror and let us proceed to the Inn."

Maskah and Kaifas lifted the mirror back into the chest and Shytolin proudly carried it in his arms.

"Can I be your escort?" Jarian walked beside Entreri. "Ladies need escorts."

"No," Entreri said, "and because of that question we will now walk in silence to the Inn." His tone was dangerous, bristling with the intensity of a panther ready to pounce.

Jarian blinked, taken aback for a moment, but he grinned and saluted. Motioning for the three servants to follow, they saluted in turn and scurried after the pair.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I was up until 1:16am to meet my own deadline and yay I did it! Next update will probably take a little more than a week, all depending on Independence Day activities, work schedule, and such. I made this chapter a little longer to make up for the previous chapter. :wink:

Next chapter, Entreri will have a little talk with Jarlaxle. Will Jarlaxle survive? Will Entreri ever look like a man again:shakes magic 8 ball 'Ask Again Later':

Hope ya'll enjoyed the chapter. If you drop a review, I'll be sure to have some fireworks lit in your honor!

_Authoress, Jarlaxle, Jarian, Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin:_ :sing chorus of a song by Tom Jones: "She's a Lady, whoa whoa whoa she's a Lady…"

_Entreri: _:lunges at them all to make a kill:

_Authoress: _:screams and ducks: I was nice to you in the last chapter!

_Jarlaxle: _:points out that Entreri needs him alive to take off the ring:

_Jarian: _:holds open his arms: "…and the Lady is mine!"

_Entreri: _:composes himself and looks to the review button for consolation:

_**Reviewer Mailbag (you all are awesome!)**_

**Tiggermyk**: So, I'm rubbing off on you eh:can't help but chuckle:

**Dark Epiphany: **Like Entreri you probably wanted to feign ignorance about the disguise. . .but curiosity eventually gets the better of you. And, oh yeah, Jarlaxle is gonna get it once Entreri has a little 'talk' with him.

**Kurai Cat**: Glad you like the interaction between the characters, they like it too! Well, with the exception of poor Entreri.

**Psycho101**: I'm more than happy to brighten your day and yes, watching Entreri's sanity right itself with each update is such fun! (Don't tell Entreri I said that) And be careful what you wish for, Entreri just might want to get stolen in order to get away from Jarian. (Though, I'm sure he wouldn't be able to escape that easily)

**Arsinoe Selene: **:Jarlaxle blinks and looks to the reviewer, then with a wicked grin brings her to his lap, allowing her to snuggle:he smiles widely and tickles her cheek with a feather:

**Abbil**: Reminds you of your little sister eh:bursts out laughing: Though even I must admit I had a Jarian-like fashion sense in my younger years. Ex: When I was 5 years oldI wore hot pink shorts, neon orange socks pulled up almost to my knees, and a bright green shirt. . .what can I say? I was a child of the late 80s/early 90s.

**Ariel D: **:helps reviewer up after falling in previous review:

:breaks out into dancing herself:

**Lessiehanamoray**: You're welcome. And whew! Glad my description of Waterdeep wasn't completely off and it's always nice to meet another realms addict, lol.

**Katherine**: Fixed that spelling mistake. It was fine on Word, but apparently the uploading on decided to be finicky. Thanks!

I agree the previous chapter was a bit boring, but there was this part of me that wanted to give Entreri some semblance of a break. Well, before he decided to go on a murderous rampage after surviving this chapter. (Shhh! Don't tell him where I am!) Fortunately he's more concerned with Jarlaxle at the moment than little old me.


	14. Channeling Rage

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

To say that Artemis Entreri was only a little enraged would be saying a volcano emits only a little lava during an eruption. Anger lurked within the assassin's being and it was not noticeable, save for a dangerous glint in his eyes and the fact it was radiating from his form like steam. Of course if you were on the streets of Waterdeep you would simply be steering clear of an angry woman, wondering why an equally outrageously dressed entourage was following her. Regardless, you would not get in either of their paths.

"Are we nearly there Artemis?"

Jarian was hoping for some kind of reply from an assassin. The silence was unnerving and he was starting to fear for Jarlaxle's life.

Kaifas shook his head and said to Jarian, "it would be best to let the assassin brood. I have heard that humans have different ways of dealing with anger."

"If only he would accept Master Jarian's comforts," Shytolin said sadly.

Maskah placed a hand on Shytolin's shoulder. "In due course perhaps that will come. Even the most stubborn of dams will break over time."

Entreri tried to ignore the drow. Inwardly he was glad that the disguise was not a physical manifestation. An illusion was a step up, but he shuddered to think of what he'd look like if he had to go to the washroom. It was not that Entreri was vain; he was rather attached to his gender.

The Unicorn's Horn came into view and Entreri quickened his pace. The Inn was adorned with brilliant banners of color and a magically illuminated sign that said, 'Welcome Friends and Patrons of Fashion.' He could hear Jarian gasp with delight and talk excitedly with his servants.

"If you four are done conversing about the 'pretty' colors, may we enter the Inn together?"

Jarian blinked. "You really think the colors are pretty?"

"I only repeat what I've heard," Entreri said before pointedly turning and walking to the Inn.

Jarian grinned and inwardly tallied Entreri's remark.

The Innkeeper of The Unicorn's Horn was a well-traveled man, worldly in every aspect of form. It took much to unnerve this slim, finely dressed man. Apparently Entreri's disguise was a bit 'much' and even he, a well-mannered gentleman, could not help but stare.

"How may I assist you Madame?"

Entreri gritted his teeth at the 'Madame' reference, but relaxed his jaw to say, "We are here for the Fashion Display. Our patron, Jarlaxle, will be here in the morning. We have a reservation here."

The Innkeeper's jaw hung slightly slack after hearing Entreri's words.

Jarian wondered about the strange behaviors of humans, until he realized that he failed to mention something to Entreri about his disguise. He whispered to Entreri, "oh yes, I forgot to mention that your voice is still that of a male human."

"What!" Entreri hissed back in slight shock and his hand edged to his sword. This action was making the Innkeeper nervous and it would not help in his plan to hurt Jarlaxle immensely. Granted it did fuel his rage tenfold, but a scene would only delay the pain.

Turning to the Innkeeper, Entreri made his voice higher pitched as he placed a pouch of gold on the counter. "A thousand pardons, I've caught a bit of the virus going around." He coughed into a silver sparkled handkerchief that Jarian handed him. "Dreadful illness, affects the throat."

Jarian piped up, "She normally has a lovely singing voice!"

Entreri glared at Jarian, making him cringe. His servants were wisely staring at the floor, suppressing smiles under the cowls of their cloaks.

"I. . .see," the Innkeeper said, absently straightening his collar. "Forgive my lack of composure, I shall send bottles of our finest wine to your room as an apology." He handed over a set of golden keys. "These are for your suite. We have only the best for your patron. I believe your security detail has already settled into the surrounding rooms."

With a snap of the Innkeeper's fingers a servant bowed before the group. "Take them to their suite and do be sure that our finest wine is delivered to their room straight away," the Innkeeper said to the servant. He watched them walk away and mumbled, "I hope she's not contagious." He experimentally cleared his throat, making a note to see a healer. . .just in case.

Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin were having a tough time suppressing their laughter. Their shoulders shook with mirth after hearing the Innkeeper's mumbled words.

Upon entering the suite Maskah coughed and Kaifas smirked offering him a handkerchief.

In a high-pitched voice Maskah replied, "Oh, why thank you. I have a dreadful illness." He switched his voice to a deeper tone, "it affects my throat."

"I'm sure wine will ease your pain," Kaifas said dramatically hugging onto Maskah.

Shytolin clapped at the display. "Bravo! Such a delightful portrayal! Do you think Jarlaxle will enjoy that Master Jarian?"

Jarian's eyes sparkled in amusement.

Entreri's eyes glinted like a sword in the moonlight. "Jarlaxle will not live to see that performed. You will all prepare for bed. I am going to sit right here and deal with Jarlaxle accordingly." He sat in a chair, folded his arms, and stared at the door.

"Artemis," Jarian said gently, "you cannot kill Jarlaxle over such a trivial matter."

Entreri continued his stare at the door. "I can and I will."

"But-"

"Good _night_ Jarian."

Jarian shifted, he never expected the rage in a human's eyes to ever match that of a drow's. This fact however did not deter his physical attraction to Entreri. To Jarian Entreri still appeared as the assassin he adored, with a delicious darkness complimenting his desirability. "If you change your mind, there's always room in my bed for one more."

Entreri drew his sabre, but Jarian was swift and had already run out of the room. No matter, he would gain his vengeance.

Morning light gradually peeked through the clouds and gently shined against the Inn. To Entreri, the stray rays of sunlight that entered the room were shafts of light illuminating a vengeful darkness. He had not slept or even moved from the chair. He sat in the shadows, daggers at the ready, simply waiting.

Jarlaxle snuck into the Inn, a broad smile on his face. He was refreshingly satisfied as he secured a loose belt about his waist. "I do enjoy procuring information," he mumbled as he navigated his way to the suite.

He checked in with his guards and soldiers, pleased that the night went smoothly and amused at their description of Entreri.

"Oh please, he is always in a sour mood," Jarlaxle said with an easy grin. He suppressed a chuckle, imagining Entreri's reaction to the disguise. That was probably the reason why Entreri may have appeared extra-sour. Unfortunately for the assassin, Jarian had a reputation for making sour objects taste sweet.

Jarlaxle made his way to the room and opened the door. The room was dark, but this was not unusual since Jarian and his entourage were not as accustomed to the sunlight as some members of Bregan D'aerthe. The shutters were closed, but he did notice a delivery of wine at the door. He bent to pick up the bottles and a thump against the wall, where his head was, drew his attention.

He pulled a dagger out of the wall, "and good morning to you too Entreri. I take it that you are not a morning person?"

Jarlaxle bent down to move the other bottles out of the way and another dagger hit the wall. "Hmm, I will take that answer as a 'no' then."

"Those were warning throws," Entreri said as he stood. "Next time I will hit you."

Jarian and his servants awoke from their joint slumber because of the commotion and promptly crept to the closed door, intently listening in on the conversation.

"Why are you so hostile Entreri?"

Entreri raised the hand with the ring. "Isn't it obvious? I am sick of you taking pleasure at my expense."

Jarlaxle chuckled.

Entreri growled out, "that's not what I meant!"

He rushed at Jarlaxle with his sabre, but the drow was ready with his own. Jarlaxle was surprised that Entreri was not losing control, as most humans were apt to do, instead he had a calculated rage which was fascinating.

Jarian gasped as he heard the swordfight in the other room. "Jarlaxle is lucky to cross swords with Artemis."

"This is pointless you know," Jarlaxle said.

"I beg to differ," Entreri said, absently twirling his sword as he attacked.

Jarlaxle chuckled, "a little panache from the assassin during the duel. I should provoke you more often."

A bead of sweat trickled down Entreri's brow. He had fought Jarlaxle once before, but back then the drow took it easy on him. He could tell. At the moment, it seemed as if they were evenly matched.

"If you provoke an animal you get the claws," Entreri said.

"True, but if you train a provoked animal you can use its claws for your own purposes," Jarlaxle said with a smirk.

"You're enjoying this too much," Entreri said with disgust. "I plan on killing you. If that plan doesn't work, I will cause you pain."

Jarlaxle laughed. His laughter was cut short when Entreri sliced at the shutters, causing the sunlight to pour into the room. He was rather accustomed to the sunlight, but the sudden change caused him to pause. Entreri spun about and hit the elbow of Jarlaxle's sword arm, taking pleasure in a satisfying crack.

With a growl Jarlaxle utilized a globe of darkness and took out a wand to freeze Entreri in his place. He backhanded Entreri across the face, wrenching the sabre from his hand. Entreri's eyes stared back defiantly and he absently licked the blood from his bleeding lip.

"Your skill has grown Entreri. No wonder you have won so many bets," Jarlaxle said, walking slowly around the assassin. "However, never forget that I _am_ superior. Your provoked claws belong to me until I deem otherwise. Never forget that!"

Jarlaxle spoke the trigger word to release the spell.

Entreri tested his jaw and was relieved to find it intact. He stared at his sabre, but stood his ground, making no movement for a weapon.

"Are you calm now?"

Entreri nodded.

"Good, now let us discuss your rage." Jarlaxle motioned to the chair behind him and picked up an overturned chair to calmly sit.

Entreri sat and said in a deadpan voice. "You made me look like a woman."

"You don't like women?"

"That's not it and you know it Jarlaxle. I am fully capable of coming up with my own disguise. I do not require an illusion, especially one such as this," Entreri said.

Jarian softly cursed from the other room. He was ever so hopeful that maybe Entreri didn't like women.

Jarlaxle thoughtfully stroked his chin. "If you can prove to me that you're capable of the task, then perhaps I just may have you create your own disguise. I was merely trying to be helpful."

Entreri held out his hand and Jarlaxle removed the ring.

"I will do that straightaway," Entreri said. He headed to the washroom and paused, "we'll never have a normal conversation will we?"

Jarlaxle chuckled, "I highly doubt it. If I am involved, normal is simply out of the question. Besides, 'normal' isn't my style." He tossed Entreri's sabre back to him.

Entreri caught the sabre and sheathed it at his side. "I really wonder about you sometimes." He shook his head and promptly locked the washroom door behind him.

Jarlaxle chuckled, "likewise." He healed his elbow with a touch of a special healing wand and smirked as he quickly opened a nearby door.

Jarian, Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin tumbled to the floor.

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Jarlaxle said as they untwined each other from a tangle of limbs. "I trust you four are enjoying yourselves."

"Of course," Jarian said, standing and fixing his hair. "We were even extra quiet last night due to Artemis' distressed state."

"He is taking good care of you then?"

Jarian grinned. "Indeed, soon we hope that he will accept our care."

"Best of luck to you," Jarlaxle said with a wink. "I am going to freshen up in the other washroom. I expect you to leave Entreri alone in the other washroom. He is preparing a disguise of his own accord. If it is not satisfactory, do let me know."

"I shall," Jarian said with a nod.

Jarlaxle went to the washroom and paused. "Oh yes, do be sure to put on some clothing. I do not think Entreri will be comfortable if they are lacking. Give him time."

Jarian sighed. "Oh all right."

Maskah sighed as Jarlaxle left. "But it is much more comfortable to sleep freely."

"It is one of the few freedoms we have," Kaifas said sadly.

Shytolin absently ran a hand through his hair, his muscles flexing at the movement. His eyes roamed over Jarian. "How can the assassin resist?"

Jarian bade them to come closer. "Jarlaxle said to give the assassin time. However, he did not say how _much_ time. Opportunity will present itself; it always does in one form or another. Until then we will roam freely in our own chamber. Eventually Artemis will not be able to resist. I will personally see to that."

**_Author's Note_**: I blame overworking and jury duty for the lack of an immediate update. However, I was able to channel Entreri's rage to write this chapter (however, rage was controlled after I found out that the case I would have been a juror on was settled 15 minutes before we entered the court room, so we got to go home early…hence why Jarlaxle is still alive).

_Jarlaxle_: "She wouldn't have been able to kill me off that easily."

_Entreri_:grumbles: "Who would choose HER for a jury! Do you see what she does to me in these chapters?"

_Jarian_: I'D choose her!

_Maskah, Kaifas, Shytolin_: Us too!

_Entreri_: "You're all biased."

Next chapter, Entreri will have to test out his disguise (this is Entreri we're talking about, there will be no gender change involved), but what mischief will Jarian and his servants cause? And perhaps Jarlaxle will reveal to the group a little more about the Fashion Display so they can be aptly prepared. Next update will probably be in the next couple weeks or so (possibly less), depending on my work schedule. Please drop a review until then.

_**Reviewer Mailbag:**_

**_(drinks all around for surpassing the 150 reviews!)_**

**Kurai Catt: **If Jarlaxle wouldn't have had that tip off from his soldiers or expected Entreri's reaction, he very well might be dead. But of course. . .this IS Jarlaxle we're talking about.

**Spider**: Are you done lying down and freaking out about Entreri's disguise yet? Careful dear boy, that will only encourage me. :chuckles:

**Arsinoe Selene: **:Jarlaxle chuckles, grabbing onto her waist,and twirlsabout with the reviewer: Glad I exceeded your expectations.

**Katherine: **:hides neon-yellow reviewer fishing pole: Reeling you in further eh? Seems every time I'll have to find better and tastier bait to put on the end of the hook. :wink: Oh dear. . .it seems I've gotten Jarian excited. . .

**Becky: **:giggles: Yeah, that simple reaction was definitely in my thoughts after I wrote the chapter.

**Venshira**: I'm glad that I could make your day. :smile: It means a lot when someone says that.

**Psycho101: **:Entreri tries to sneak away to the nice reviewer's druid, but the authoress and Jarlaxle threaten him with a physical manifestation of the disguise: An admirable try, but hey, at least Jarlaxle is the type to negotiate. I daresay that he enjoys provoking the assassin to test his limits. Anger can be quite the weapon when channeled properly.

**Lord Onisyr**: Assassins can be pretty too, lol. Hmm, 'will Jarian get the last laugh?' We shall see. . .

**Abbil**: I totally agree with you about the weapons. My younger brother just touched one of my swords without permission and I flipped! If ribbons were added. . .well, let's just say he would be on friendly terms with death. Glad you liked that quote, that was just too tempting not to write. And hmm, regarding your sister, you have a lot in common with Entreri. . .well, the trying to ignore the outrageously dressed being that is. . .

**Dark Epiphany**: Jarlaxle says, "It's not cheating. It's expanding my repertoire of skill so that when I get to you, I am far better improved in aspects of pleasure than ever before."

:shifts: He really liked your poem of sorts in the last review. He claims that he will make it up to you. . . :sees massage oil and leaves the area, deciding to give Jarlaxle and the reviewer some privacy:

**Ariel D: **:chuckles: I'm responsible for many a horrid mental picture. I just can't help it sometimes. Jarlaxle did manage to get hurt, but I think in a way his pride was hurt a little more than anything and that's sometimes worse than an elbow injury. Of course, since Jarlaxle can be quite the 'persuasive' muse I couldn't have him in too much agony (he's protecting me from Entreri after all!).

**Esgallonde**: Ah yes, that ever so ambiguous name of Artemis was a catalyst in my decision to make him into a woman. :hugs the smart reviewer:chuckles: If you want to escape Entreri's sword, threaten him with Jarian dressing only in ribbons. . .that usually stops him.

I definitely need to read the Artemis Fowl series; I've heard good things.

**Jack: **I giggle every time I read that quote. :grin:

**Lessiehanamoray: **I don't know why I'm so mean to Entreri. I think in an odd way I'm preparing him for travel with Jarlaxle. . .after all this, nothing can possibly bother Entreri, lol. :nervously laughs as Entreri catches wind of plot: Plot? Whatever makes you think there's a plot:innocently hums and walks away:

**Snow**: No worries about a late review. And would you believe that I actually considered a harem-type outfit for Entreri? He's lucky he escaped that fate. . .for now. Mwhuahahaha!

:Entreri stares: "Were you evilly cackling!"

Um. . .no. . .of course not. . .:authoress runs away:

**Dyath Xianna**: Lol! Missing a finger indeed. Entreri definitely considered it, but I think a sense of pride prevented him from doing anything rash. However, if his physical form was a woman and not an illusion. . .that finger would be gone.

**Kracken l.w**.: Jarian is definitely special, in so many ways. And yes, my mental health has long since departed. However, I admit that I'm crazy. Real crazy people think other people are crazy; therefore if I admit I'm crazy. . .I'm on another level entirely.


	15. Entreri's Stylish Disguise

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

"A disguise," Artemis Entreri said to the mirror before him. He gripped the washstand and stared at his image, attempting to receive some semblance of inspiration.

A squeak to his immediate right diverted his attention. "_You_ again."

_Squeak, Squeak._

Tazolg, Jarian's familiar, fluttered before Entreri. It's mousey nose furrowed happily and its fairy wings quickened in excitement.

"What do _you_ want?"

Tazolg somersaulted in the air and settled itself on Entreri's shoulder, lightly nibbling his ear.

Entreri cursed and tried batting the creature off his shoulder. The flying mouse squeaked in alarm and flew around the room in terror, especially when Entreri drew his sabre. It ended up flying into a container of powder, sufficiently covering a corner of the washroom. With a sneeze it flew across the room and tried to shake the powder off frantically, as if the white powder was not as pristine as its already white coat of fur.

Sheathing his sabre, the assassin regarded the small creature with a raised eyebrow. It really was pitiful.

He walked over to the mouse and scooped it into his hand. Holding his hand before him he gently brushed the powder off of the creature.

_Squeak?_

"No, I'm not going to hurt you," Entreri said. "I just don't want you making a mess. You have the annoying tendency of appearing when I want privacy, just like your Master."

_Squeak!_

"Your name is Tazolg correct?"

_Squeak! Squeak!_

"I'll take that as a yes," Entreri mumbled. He noticed that the edges of the mouse's fur went from a bright pink to a silvery blue. "I'm going to bathe now Tazolg and I am going to place you in a shaving box. When I am done you may fly free. If I find out that you're watching me for your Master, I will not hesitate to clip your wings and cook you into a fine feast for an alley cat."

Tazolg nervously squeaked and flew into the shaving box.

As Entreri prepared to bathe he mumbled, "I just had a conversation with a flying mouse, the gods are a cruel lot indeed."

Time passed and the dark elves waited in the other room to see Entreri's disguise. Of course, they had to look like they weren't waiting. Jarlaxle sat at a small desk, weighing various colored gems on a scale. Jarian was trying his best not to poke Shytolin as he sewed a hem onto his garment. Maskah and Kaifas watched their master work, stealing glances at the washroom door.

Jarian sighed dramatically. "Jarlaxle, he's been in there for a while now. May I go and fetch him? He may be in trouble and need my assistance."

Jarlaxle suppressed a smile, _if I let that happen Artemis would not think twice about leaping from the window._ "If I am not mistaken Jarian, you take thrice as long in the washroom to prepare when you are _not_ going out in a disguise."

"Refined beauty takes time," Jarian said, justifying his prolonged use of a washroom.

"You are a pinnacle of beauty without need of refinement," Shytolin said to Jarian.

"Indeed," Maskah said, "but the refinement exhibits Master Jarian's precision and his meticulous nature regarding the subject of appearance."

Jarian smiled proudly at his servants, but assumed a humble appearance.

Kaifas chuckled. "Just because one is in the bathroom for a while does not mean one is always tending to their own appearance."

Jarian gasped in 'shock'. "I know not of what you are implying. You have a dirty mind that requires cleansing later, Kaifas."

"I'll meet you in the washroom," Kaifas said with a sly smile.

Maskah shook his head. "Your tongue is always getting you in trouble."

"Among other things," Shytolin added.

Jarlaxle shook his head in amusement at his desk. He was far to used to this kind of talk by now. A creak of the washroom door opening drew his attention to another area of the room. He looked up in a bored manner and looked back down. His mind processed what he saw and he looked back up to stare.

Jarian gasped for real. "Artemis!"

Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin stared. . .so, _that's_ what their master saw in the assassin.

Tazolg flew out of the washroom and settled on Jarian's shoulder, squeaking happily.

Artemis Entreri no longer looked like a scruffy, hard-edged assassin. Instead, he looked like a smooth, well-dressed gentleman killer. His normally slicked back hair was actually brushed back in layers and was neatly trimmed. He was mildly surprised at the drows' stares and absently shifted, causing his hair to sway slightly. Entreri's usual unshaven face was smooth and had a slight sheen. Eyebrows were cut to perfection and scars had mysteriously disappeared.

His fingernails were filed and cleaned, almost as if he had a manicure. A clean white shirt, laced up the front rested about his shoulders. Black lizard-hide pants clad his legs, along with sleek boots that were polished to a shine. His sabre rested comfortably at his left hip and a black cape draped from his right shoulder, casually thrown over his left shoulder.

"Artemis. . .you have. . .style," Jarian said in awe.

"Which is why I do not require yours," Entreri said.

"Well, someone cleans up nicely," Jarlaxle said, walking over to Entreri. He circled the assassin and leaned in close to sniff at him. "It is a miracle what a long bath and a good scrubbing can accomplish. You actually smell appealing."

Entreri glared at him. "I did _bathe_ in the Underdark."

"Of course you did," Jarlaxle said. "But you never used the sweet smelling oils I provided."

"That's because I saw one of your soldiers mobbed by your harem girls after he boasted about using them.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes, he wasn't seen for days," Entreri said, "and he was not able to do his duty."

Jarlaxle mumbled, "Oh he was doing something all right."

Entreri visibly ignored Jarlaxle, but he momentarily forgot about Jarian, who was at his side and was now stroking his smooth cheek. "Jarian, cease your activity or lose your fingers."

Jarian stepped back and regarded the assassin thoughtfully. "All right," he walked away.

"That's it?" Entreri blinked. _That was too easy._

Jarian just hummed to himself as he went back to Shytolin's hem. The servants exchanged confused looks.

Entreri ignored him. "Is the disguise sufficient Jarlaxle?"

"Yes, it is sufficient," Jarlaxle said, "especially since you've reduced Jarian to near speechlessness."

Entreri sighed. "He's up to something isn't he?"

Jarlaxle shrugged. "I am but a simple mercenary captain, I know not of such things."

"That means yes," Entreri said. "Nothing about you is simple."

"Your words are so very true," Jarlaxle said with a grin. Entreri could detect the subtle nuances of his personality and it amused Jarlaxle to no end, this assassin would go far. "But, let us move on to other matters. The Fashion Display is a three-day event. However, only the most worthy are requested to continue onto the third day."

Jarian finished his sewing and listened to Jarlaxle, determined to make it to that third day.

"The first day will consist of cutting edge formal wear, both male and female styles," Jarlaxle continued. "First impressions are key in these types of Displays. However, I have from a very reliable source that the second day will be even more important."

Entreri noticed a small shine in Jarlaxle's eyes when he said, 'very reliable source'. This usually meant one of three things. He interrogated someone, killed someone, or slept with someone. Entreri's bets were on the latter.

"While the first day is a chance to catch the audience's eyes, the second day will prove that the outfits are also functional. The first half of the second day will display the Cultural outfits of the tailor's origins, whilst the second half will display practical outfits that are functional in everyday life."

"I see," Jarian said, mentally reviewing his outfits and supplies. "And what of the third day?"

"The third day is a combination of cutting edge style, practicality and originality, conducive to the tailor and their patron." Jarlaxle looked to his tailor. "With your talent I have the utmost confidence that we will make our mark in the Fashion world."

"These Surface Dwellers will be in for quite the display," Jarian said with a devious smile.

"The tailors and their models are allowed to tour Costumer's Hall in order to see the runway setup," Jarlaxle said. "Entreri, kindly escort these four to the Hall. Once you are finished return to the Inn."

Entreri bowed his head to Jarlaxle. "The Display is not starting this evening?"

"Today is merely registration, mingling, and setting up," Jarlaxle said. "I have registered Bregan D'aerthe, so now you may familiarize yourselves with the area."

"Oh splendid!" Jarian clapped excitedly and faced his servants. "A day in town with Artemis! How exciting!"

_A day in town, with these four and all the obsessive Fashion Fans_, Entreri thought. _I knew I should have leapt out of the washroom window._

* * *

**_Author's Note:_** Okay, I battled a barrage of migraines to write this chapter and when I finally managed to scare them away for a bit. . .the chapter was written. Hmm, perhaps working a lot had something to do with it as well. I also had to research schematics of fashion shows. :random: I just can't help but find Tazolg adorable, lol.

There probably won't be an immediate update (I'm heading to an anime convention this weekend, Otakon! But mayhap I shall receive some inspiration). With luck maybe another update will come next week, it'd be a nice birthday gift to myself, lol.

Next chapter, we'll get a feel for Costumer's Hall and there will be some action (minds out of the gutters folks. . .though, remember. . .Jarian is up to something. Then again, he's _always_ up to something).

_Entreri_: "You'll be 21 years old next week on the 24th, you can finally buy me alcohol so I can drink Jarian away."

_Authoress_: "I'm not going on a beer run for you!"

_Jarlaxle_: "I always saw Entreri as a wine man, much like myself."

_Authoress_: "I'm NOT getting alcohol for you two!"

:Jarian and his servants slip into their birthday suits:

_Authoress_: "On second thought, you guys give me money for a strawberry daiquiri. . .I'll get you both your alcohol."

(Authoress does not endorse drinking. In fact she detests drinking alcohol just to get drunk/plastered and finds it deplorable. However, there are those nights when you just need a drink. . .)

_**Reviewer Mailbag:**_

_**(Arigato:bows:)**_

**Spider: **Yeah, yeah. . .end of August, lol. Don't let Jarlaxle hear that your happy Entreri got a hit on him.

**Katherine: **Hmm, Jarian having that ring and surprising Entreri. . .I think our dear assassin would skewer the tailor despite Jarlaxle's presence. However, Jarian DOES have a surprise for Entreri in store…

**Becky: **The muses are indeed smiling down on me. Wounding Jarlaxle makes you feel better huh:chuckles as Jarlaxle huffs:

**Lord Onisyr: **Thanks! I'm glad that you liked the fight scene and my portrayal of Jarlaxle. I'm so relieved that it went over well.

**Tiggermyk: **Yeah, Arty gets kind of pissy when you laugh at him. :giggles: He also gets moody now when I call him Arty. However, at least he can come up with a decent disguise. See? I can be nice to the assassin. . .sometimes.

**Lessiehanamoray: **My main focus for the last chapter was to keep Jarlaxle in character for the fight. Even I was impressed when Entreri hit Jarlaxle!

**Oracle:** If you steal Entreri's disguise. . .then he'll be wearing nothing. . . :Jarian encourages the nice reviewer:Entreri readies his sabre:

**Psycho101:** Your hopes are answered, Entreri's disguise got the Jarlaxle Stamp-of-Approval.

**Lena Silverwing: **I prefer Entreri as a man too. However, is it bad that as I wrote the chapter I was singing 'To Be a Man' from the Disney movie _Mulan_? Yay for roses and candies!

**Arsinoe Selene:** The part about the voice makes me giggle even now.

:Jarlaxle now has fun calling Entreri 'Artie' as he protects the reviewer:

Beware Artie's, I mean Entreri's wrath. . .he sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

**Iceheart Firesoul: **Welcome! I was very happy to see all your reviews. Jarian's servants are currently nursing him back to health. . .you don't want to know what that involves. :grumbles about 'damn drow playing doctor':

Drow discovering Valentine's Day…hmm…this has potential. _"It would make enough chaos to sate even Lloth." _- I agree with you tenfold, lol.

"_You have Jarlaxle and Jarian on your back, eh? And what are they doing THERE? smirk"_ – They're my muses. . .it's um. . .part of their job! Yeah, that's it!


	16. Action on the streets of Waterdeep

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

The streets were littered with various races, flitting from store to store, defining the hectic consumer society. Entreri reminisced about his Calimport street days and the haggling vendors that lined the sand strewn streets-

"Artemis! This cream tart is simply divine! You must try some!"

Entreri's flashback was shattered into a shard of memory as Jarian brought a sweet substance to his lips. He quickly backed into a tent post, nearly toppling a vendor's stand. Thankfully, his reflexes and steady hands prevented that from happening. "I'm not hungry."

"Nor am I," Jarian said, licking the sugar from his lips. "But sometimes I must indulge myself."

Kaifas, Maskah, and Shytolin were enjoying their tarts, licking their fingers and feeding one another.

Entreri noted this and felt his stomach churn. "I don't have an appetite at the moment."

"I better see you eat something later Artemis," Jarian said in a tone akin to a master talking to their pet. "If I don't, I _will_ hand feed you."

Entreri ignored him and continued walking toward the Costumer's Hall, hoping that the drow wouldn't insist on stopping at every shop and vendor's stand along the way.

Half an hour later, Entreri found himself carrying a multitude of bags. _I'm no longer a bodyguard; I'm a bloody pack mule. _

"What do you think of these beads Artemis?" Jarian twirled about and flaunted the ivory colored beads around his neck.

"Don't call me that, especially in public, when I am wearing a disguise," Entreri said in a low voice.

Jarian sidled over to the assassin. "Can I call you Artie?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"You can't make me not call you Artie."

"I can cut out your tongue," Entreri said darkly.

"You'd have to touch it first," Jarian said in a husky voice.

Entreri didn't answer; instead he stalked toward the Costumer's Hall.

Jarian smirked and followed saying quietly, "I promise only to call you Artie when you're in disguise."

This elicited a grunt from Entreri, which Jarian interpreted as 'fine-but-if-you-call-me-that-name-any-other-time-I-really-will-cut-out-your-tongue'. Jarian found the prospect quite exciting.

Alura Tarbrossen personally led the tour of Costumer's Hall as each tailor entered the building's doors. Upon seeing drow, she knew that they had to be Jarlaxle's fashion representatives.

Walking over to them, "Greetings, I am Alura Tarbrossen, representative of the Order of Master Tailors, Glovers, and Mercers. Welcome to Waterdeep! I have heard much about Master Jarian's talents." She examined each of them, extending her hand to Jarian as she ascertained the most fashionably dressed.

"Well met Lady Tarbrossen," Jarian said kissing her hand. "I would very much like to tour this facility and see what my models and I have to work with for the Display."

"Your models?" She looked to Entreri quizzically.

Entreri blinked. "I'm just the bodyguard."

"Bodyguard indeed," Lady Tarbrossen murmured, looking him up and down.

Jarian's eyes narrowed, _he's sentinel to my body, not yours my dear. Jarlaxle may find you a delicious sample, but Artemis is mine._

"Yes," Jarian said, taking Lady Tarbrossen's arm, leading her away from Entreri, "Artie is a _fine_ bodyguard. He serves all of my body needs."

Entreri suppressed the urge to kill Jarian; after all, there were too many witnesses.

After several hours of touring the building, they walked out of Costumer's Hall. The sky had considerably darkened since they entered the building. A light drizzle fell from the sky and citizens scrambled to cover their wares.

Entreri drew the hood of his cloak over his head and walked forward. "Let's go." He paused when the drow didn't immediately follow and turned to look at them.

Jarian was catching raindrops in his hands and staring up to the sky in awe. His eyes sparkled with wonder. "So _this_ is what rain feels like."

His servants looked up to the sky timidly and slowly joined Jarian; eventually delighting in the fact they could catch raindrops with their tongues.

Entreri cleared his throat. "Aren't you worried about your clothes or your hair?"

The four drow gasped slightly in alarm and wrapped their cloaks tightly about themselves, huddling in the cowls. Entreri smirked as he turned around and led them back toward the Inn.

Dark figures lurked in the alley shadows, watching the group leave Costumer's Hall. They had stalked the group since their entrance into the city, loathing the very presence of the drow.

Entreri navigated through the back alleys, intent on making it to the secret entrance of the Inn before it started to downpour. He paused as he saw a flash of a weapon out of the corner of his eye. In a swift movement he had his sabre drawn and his arm extended behind him to stop the following drow.

"Be on your guard. We've been followed."

Jarian's eyes glowed as he shifted his sight to full infravision. "There are at least fifteen of them," he whispered to the assassin.

Kaifas, Maskah, and Shytolin kneeled and drew daggers from their boots, holding them at the ready.

The usually light and carefree drow were now slipping into a mode befitting their dark heritage.

The ruffians emerged from the shadows, weapons drawn and at the ready.

"Go back in your holes drow," a particularly large man growled out. "We don't want your kind here!"

_They think I'm a drow as well_, Entreri realized. It took him a moment to recognize that his defensive stance was similar to the four drow and that he had been walking of late like the drow, toe to heel, instead of heel to toe.

"We're here to do business that is none of your concern," Entreri responded, imitating the accent of a drow speaking Common tongue.

"We don't want your business here," the man said. Spitting at the ground, "it only ends in death, you filthy murderers!"

"Let us pass," Entreri said, "there does not need to be bloodshed."

The man smiled nastily. "I disagree."

A crossbow quarrel was unleashed at the group and they exploded into action. Kaifas, Maskah, and Shytolin aimed and released their daggers at the archers, having already ascertained their locations. Entreri deflected a stray quarrel away from the group with a twirl of his sabre.

"Stay together," Entreri said. "They think that they have the advantage because of their increased numbers. Cover them in darkness and use your hearing to detect their movement in the rain."

"You really think like quite the drow," Jarian said. He wrapped his tape measure about his hand.

"Is that a tape measure?"

Jarian smirked. "I am a drow of many, many talents." He flicked it to his side, taking out one of the humans with a resounding crack, sounding just like a whip.

"Just don't hit me with that thing," Entreri said, shifting into an offensive stance.

"I won't unless you ask," Jarian said with a sly smile.

Entreri fought back a grimace. "Globe of darkness, now."

The assassin was glad for the earring in his ear that allowed his sight to shift to infravision. Most of the ruffians became a chaotic rabble when the curtain of darkness fell. The rain created wisps of heat that rose off the humans like steam and Entreri maintained a warrior-like calm to keep his body temperature different than the others so the drow could differentiate the heat signatures. Clangs of weapons echoed down the alley, like funeral bells tolling a requiem for the fallen.

The globe of darkness faded and Entreri stood amidst the bodies of those he had slain. The hood of his cloak had fallen back and rain dripped from his hair like the blood that trickled off his sabre.

"It's a human," one of the surviving ruffians yelled. "He's in league with the drow, a traitor to his own race!"

Jarian stood back with his servants, staring in slight shock at the change that had come over Entreri. They had seen him spar, but never actually kill. They finally understood why Jarlaxle kept the human around…unfortunately for Entreri, this increased Jarian's attraction tenfold.

Entreri fought with a calculated coldness that would chill the heart of any man, yet the ferocity in his eyes belied any thoughts of detachment from the kills. His job was clear, to protect the drow. He had no choice in the matter and his unconscious kept his fighting form close to the dark elves that he was charged to guard. Deep down he was impressed by the drow skills, especially Jarian, whose tape measure of doom acted as a rather useful weapon.

At one point during the battle, Jarian unfurled the tape measure toward Entreri, having it wrap around his waist. With a yank he pulled the assassin out of the way of a sword's blade and into his arms.

"I saved you!"

"I could have blocked that," Entreri growled in annoyance. Distracted for that split second Entreri didn't notice the rogue behind Jarian until the last possible moment. Shoving Jarian out of the way, he winced and plunged his sabre into the rogue's chest.

The rogue blinked, "aren't you Artemis Entreri?"

"No, just your executioner," Entreri responding, letting the man drop to the mud.

The servants helped Jarian out of the mud and looked around.

"There's none left," Kaifas observed in relief.

"We appear to have triumphed," Maskah said.

"This mud will be so hard to get out," Shytolin said, trying to clean Jarian's outfit.

Entreri held his side and knelt to the ground, examining a dagger. He quietly cursed, but rose to his feet, tossing the tape measure back to Jarian. "We must go back to the Inn and inform Jarlaxle."

He staggered and fell to the mud, slipping into a sleep of darkness.

"ARTEMIS!"

Jarian ran to his side, picking up the dagger that Entreri dropped. "Kaifas, go alert Master Jarlaxle. Maskah, Shytolin, help me carry him."

A thousand fantasies ran through Jarian's head. Entreri was unconscious, wet, heaving, and warm to the touch. _Bad Jarian! He is more than likely poisoned. I wonder, will it need to be sucked out? Oh dear, bad naughty Jarian! This is all your fault. You'll have to make it up to Artemis now. . . over and over again._

**Author's Note: **Yes, I know what you're thinking. . .'poor Artemis!' However, the distinction between being a drow and human blurs with the characters of Entreri and Jarian. On a random note in the beginning, doesn't Entreri remind you of a poor boyfriend who gets stuck with their girlfriend shopping and has to hold their purse and bags while they try things on. :stifles the urge to giggle:

_Jarian_: "You hurt Artemis!"

_Authoress:_ "Only a little. . ."

_Entreri:_ "A little! I'm unconscious and at Jarian's mercy! This is all because you were drinking as you wrote the chapter!"

_Authoress:_ "Don't you lecture me Mr. Let's-steal-the-authoress'-alcohol-supply! And besides, I only had a few sips of a strawberry daiquiri wine cooler as I wrote the beginning of the chapter."

Next chapter, Entreri's been hurt protecting Jarian and now he has to recover. Will he be helpless before Jarian? Will we find sides to Jarian and Entreri we've never seen before?

Depending on my homework load these questions and more will be answered in the next chapter, hopefully within the next couple weeks.

_**Reviewer Mailbag**_

**_Arsinoe Selene: _**:giggles: I love the fact that you get excited seeing the next chapter in your inbox. I get excited seeing your reviews.

:Entreri grumbles about being called, 'Artie' and blames the reviewers for the authoress actually using it:

**_Abbil: _**No worries about not reviewing other chapter, I'm happy to hear from you. Thanks for the birthday wish.

**_Becca_**: Thanks for the luck. . .but now it looks like our library will close unless a miracle happens.

**_Spider_**: Thanks for the extension; I've been far too stressed these past few weeks to even think about it. :smile: I'm happy you'd be the first to buy, lol.

**_Lessiehanamoray_**: I agree with you that Entreri always likes to be well groomed. In a way I see his regular appearance as a businessman, clean cut, well-to-do, etc. His disguise is businessman times ten, the type of cleanliness you'd wear to an awards banquet or to a very well to do party, almost akin to the care a nobleman puts into his appearance. (Though, I always seem him as a bit scruffy for his normal appearance. . .scruffy can definitely be a good thing for some men)

Yay! I'm glad you like Tazolg (and yes, you did make Jarian happier for petting him).

**_Lena Silverwing: _**:helps clean up drool and reinforces shield against Entreri's rage: Yay! Goodies!

Jarian: "Can Artemis be in my goody bag?"

**_Iceheart Firesoul_**: Entreri says that he can normally hold his alcohol very well. As for Jarian's servants, they'll find any excuse to nurse Jarian. :wink:

:sweatdrop: Muses ARE for inspiration…:smirk: you'd be amazed how many times I get inspired by them in bed. :pause: Crap, did I say that aloud? That's not what I meant!

Thanks for the birthday wish. As for Jarian, I am rather attached to him as a character. If you were to use him in a fanfiction I'd ask that you please send me an email about what you intend to do with him. If you've already posted it, do please reference me and provide a link to this story. :wink:

**_Kracken L.W_**.:gives Entreri booze and sneaks some away, passing Jarian the orange one:

Or else what:smirks:however, does eye the suspicious green drink:

**_Psycho101_**: Jarian has much in mind for dear Artemis. . .much indeed.

**_Kaje12003_**: Glad to have a review from you. I've been steadily infusing more detail about the surroundings with each chapter, but I shall definitely be mindful of that from now on. :smile:

**_Tiggermyk: _**:giggles: You'll have to fight Jarian to get to him. He sure didn't like Alura eyeing his assassin. :fans reviewer regardless:

Thanks for the birthday wish.

**_Lord Onisyr: _**"Parade of manflesh" in regards to Jarian's servants…couldn't of said that better myself:chuckles:

And omg, if Tazolg and Kyorli met that'd be adorable! (I always did have a soft spot for Gromph's familiar, lol)

**_Bloodyrazor_**: I love the things I do with Entreri too. :wink: (thanks for being a faithful reader)

**_Bored_**: All right, fess up, who was it? Shiny jewels to whoever it was. . . :trails off and chuckles:

Well, your wish to updateis my command. :smiles and looks up to the chapter:


	17. Awakening

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

Candle flames flickered in the dark room, emitting heat that was only accentuated by the prone assassin's heaving chest. The sweat of an unclad body beneath the sheets made the fabric cling to various body parts that were quite active during a restless sleep. A drow tailor observed this with much delight, his own body reacting in turn. He had long since deposited his clothes for the evening and approached the bed. The assassin's brow was feverish to the touch, making his cheeks rather flushed. With a soft chuckle, he wondered if he could make the assassin blush. A wide smile appeared on his face as the assassin tossed in his sleep, exposing sweat-soaked flesh.

"Nurse Jarian will make everything better," the drow said, caressing the bare skin. He felt a shiver course through the assassin's body at his touch. "Yes, that's it Entreri. Accept my healing touch and all will be well." He leaned over Entreri, bending in for a kiss; one hand removing the blanket while another hand went toward--

"Ah!" Entreri woke up with a cry that was not of excitement, but of explicit horror. He'd had nightmares before, but nothing had disturbed him as badly as this visual atrocity. It took him a moment to fully gauge his surroundings.

_Where am I? Wait…we were in that alley and it was raining. There was that fight we won and then-_

"By the abyss, how long have I been unconscious!"

"A day."

Jarlaxle had been watching him for several minutes and answered the question.

"Only a day?"

"Well, perhaps a night as well, but who keeps track of these things?"

Entreri glared at him or at least he thought he was glaring at Jarlaxle. The fever was going to his head a little, an after effect of the poisoned dagger, so he was actually glaring at a cape hanging on a chair. "Has Jarian been here?"

"Of course, he has been worried about your well being," Jarlaxle answered.

"I wasn't…alone with him was I?"

"Entreri, you should be fortunate I did not let him sponge bathe you," Jarlaxle said in a very serious tone.

A disgusted gurgle came from Entreri's throat and Jarlaxle thought the assassin was going to retch. This amused and disgusted him at the same time.

"No, _you_ should be very fortunate, because even in this state I can still kill him."

"This from the man who saved him," Jarlaxle said.

Entreri muttered and went to rise.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I don't like being bed ridden."

Jarlaxle snickered.

Entreri ignored him, until Jarlaxle firmly pushed him back to the bed. "You are to stay right there. The Healers have only just removed the remaining strands of the poison from your blood and the healing draught needs to repair internal damages."

Jarian gasped as he entered the room…his Master was pushing Entreri onto the bed! "Jarlaxle! Artemis! How could you! I thought you would at least ask me to join!"

Entreri stifled the urge to retch again. Jarlaxle pulled away, not wanting vomit all over his outfit. "Curb your excitement for the moment Jarian. I was just telling Entreri that he needs to remain in bed until he is fully healed. Since he is rather strong willed, that will not be long."

The fever was making Entreri dizzy and the room whirled in an array of infrared induced colors. He wasn't focused on Jarlaxle's words, however his eyes did stray to Jarian.

"Jarlaxle."

"Yes Entreri."

"Why isn't Jarian wearing any clothes?"

"He's…experimenting with dark colors at the moment, you're just not accustomed to seeing him in black. You're hallucinating his nudity."

Entreri rested his head back dizzily and closed his eyes murmuring, "You're a horrible liar."

"Only when I want to be," Jarlaxle mumbled in reply as he ushered Jarian out of the room.

"Oh please let me stay with him Jarlaxle. I promise to handle him with the utmost care and delicacy," Jarian pleaded. "Well, unless he prefers it rough."

"I do not doubt your handling skills," Jarlaxle said. "Nor do I doubt your physical appearance. Do put some clothes on, had Entreri's fever been any lower or his senses any sharper, he might have received a scar much deeper than a dagger slash."

"I _was _in the middle of something when I sensed Entreri awakening," Jarian said with the slightest of pouts. "Speaking of which, I'm missing all the fun. I'll dress in due course."

Jarlaxle watched him walk away and wondered, _how can he be in the middle of something if he has three servants?_ He stroked his chin, thoughtful for a moment, before going to attend to some business.

The sands of the hourglass fell as Entreri slumbered in a fog-filled sleep. When he finally gained consciousness, he was relieved that he did not have any more vivid dreams and that there were no drow in the room. He was less than pleased to discover that he was only wearing underclothing, but he rationalized that the healers must have had to do that in order to dress the wound and cleanse it properly. There was barely a scar from where the dagger slashed his side.

He walked unsteadily to the washroom, shaking off the after effects of the healing draught. He hated receiving injuries by poisoned weapons, they made him feel weak and through that weakness he ended up having nightmares that would plague his sleep. Relieved to find 'normal' clothing in the washroom (he discretely bought some from a vendor), he slipped into them and peeked out of his room, stomach growling as it demanded food.

Overhearing the stomach growl, "oh good, it seems that you are better." Jarlaxle motioned Entreri over to a table laden with food. "Do have something to eat. I had the kitchen prepare you a meal of stew and spicy potatoes."

Entreri looked to Jarlaxle suspiciously. _Since when does he invite me to dine?_ Allowing his stomach's desires to come before his mind's wary nature, he made quick work with the food.

"What is the meaning of this dinner date?"

Jarlaxle chuckled. "I always did enjoy your biting sense of humor."

"It's not humor, it's sarcasm."

"Regardless," Jarlaxle said, eyes set on Entreri, "with each passing day you prove yourself worthy to hear the knowledge that I guard."

"I do not care about your guarded knowledge," Entreri said. "I follow your orders so I can be rid of you and out of your service."

"There are not many in my service who are so openly honest with me," Jarlaxle said, "which is why I am considering you for a higher position."

"Wait, what-"

"Anyway," Jarlaxle said, cutting him off, "where was I? Oh yes, the guarded knowledge."

Entreri stared at the drow. _This is infuriating! That damn drow is planning something and he enjoys not telling me. And if I try to ask him what he is planning he will become innocently aloof. I read him better than he thinks, but it seems even that is not enough to penetrate his mystery._

"I suppose you have been wondering about Jarian," Jarlaxle continued.

"No, not really."

Jarlaxle stared.

"I confess myself intrigued," Entreri said begrudgingly. "He is a rather unusual drow."

"Which is precisely why Bregan D'aerthe is his home," Jarlaxle said. "We welcome a variety of drow, in suppressed situations, the opportunity to create a new life and to prosper. We are a patriarchal society, within a matriarchal society that cannot function without us. I have personally seen to that. You should consider yourself very fortunate to participate in this organization."

"Since most drow are less than pleased with my humanity, I am fortunate that my skills are being put to use," Entreri said.

"Jarian was in a similar situation," Jarlaxle went on. "He was always a pretty looking drow and many females took advantage of that. He learned much obeying their whims as a bed slave, but his desires laid elsewhere. He preferred the males and incited the jealousy of his Matron when he was found sleeping with her most favored lover. Same gender inspired loves are not uncommon in our society, but it is not talked about in the proper circles, you can participate, but never flaunt your affiliation."

"What happened to him?"

Jarlaxle was slightly surprised when Entreri actually asked a question, but he didn't belie his astonishment. This proved that the assassin was actually paying attention.

"He was tortured, punished, taught a lesson for savoring a delicacy that only a Matron was privy to taste. They left him for dead, yet he still had the strength to flee. He had developed an earring that would teleport him outside of the city if it was ever ripped from his ear. It was there that my scouts found him and brought him to me. I remembered him from when I spent my short-lived time in Sorcere, before returning to Melee Magthere. He was rather outspoken and always had a flare for fashion. I was surprised that he was not cast out from his House sooner. But, once the Healers tended to him, I put him to use as my tailor and I have never regretted it."

"Never?"

"Never. He is quite talented and can be rather entertaining," Jarlaxle said with amusement in his voice.

"Did you just tell me this so I would be nicer to him?"

Jarlaxle sipped his chalice of wine. "Do you think that you need to be nicer to him?"

"I did my duty." Entreri studied Jarlaxle for a moment. _He answered a question with another question. He's trying to decipher my motives. So, I will play his game and refuse to answer his question._

"Yes, you did. But remember, I told you that you need to protect Jarian. You did that physically, the next step is emotionally." Jarlaxle drained the rest of his wine and stood. "Preparations are being made for the Fashion Display. There is much work to be done and I expect you to follow through on your duty."

Entreri was about to drink his wine, but his cup stopped in midair. _Emotionally! _

"I don't do emotions."

Jarlaxle didn't say a word as he headed to the door.

"Where are you going? You tell me that and just leave." Entreri stood and slammed his cup to the table. "Jarlaxle! I refuse to be a source of your amusement!"

The door closed and Entreri sat down heavily. He grabbed the wine bottle on the table and was about to take a drink, but he threw it to the ground. He watched the shards of glass scatter across the room, noticing how easy it was to completely destroy something that was once complete. With a mutter, "Why did I defend them? I could have escaped."

He hadn't felt human since childhood and he never claimed to be a drow. What was he? Was he merely an assassin? Was he a creature defined by his deadly skills? Or maybe, just maybe, was he finally understanding what it meant to be a true member of Bregan D'aerthe?

**_Author's Note:_** I've been waiting to do the beginning of this particular chapter for several months. I bet a lot of you were worried for Entreri…mwhuahahahaha!

:shifts because of Entreri's death glare:

Of course, our dear assassin should be fortunate that it was but a nightmare. Whether it was caused by Jarian or not, well, who can tell these days? The realm of dreams can be a mysterious place.

I decided near the end of the chapter to ponder what it meant to be a part of Bregan D'aerthe and decided to reveal a bit more of Jarian's history. I also wanted a bit more action (mind out of the gutter please) between Jarlaxle and Entreri, because their interactions intrigue me. I anxiously await R.A. Salvatore's 'Promise of the Witch-King' to see more of their interactions and to see if I do them justice.

Next chapter (expect an update within the next several weeks, curse my schoolwork): The first day of the Fashion Display is fast approaching and there are so many preparations to be made! Does Jarian have something up his sleeve? Is he even wearing a sleeve? Will Entreri be 'nicer' to our flamboyant drow tailor? Will we ever understand Jarlaxle?

:consults Magic 8 ball:

"_Ask again Later_."

_Entreri: _"Give me that 8 ball. I want it to tell me the answers."

_Jarian: _:steals the magic 8 ball from the authoress: "All right Entreri, come and get the magic ball."

_Authoress_:looks to Jarlaxle: "Aren't you going to do something?"

_Jarlaxle_: "I like to watch."

_Authoress_:mutters: "You probably do more than that."

_Jarlaxle:_ :smirks:

_**Reviewer Mailbag (Thank you!):**_

**Abbil: **Oh come now, no sobbing in the corner over Entreri. He's a tough guy (okay, so he probably is in desperate need of a hug and while I'm sure Jarian would offer him a hug…er…Entreri just pointed out to me that the word 'ugh' is in 'hug').

**Arsinoe Selene**: I love getting email too. I'm a junkie, lol. Do you and Jarlaxle need a room:Jarian provides a nicely decorated room: Erm…hope you don't mind a certain tailor watching…

**Doinkers (yay, Katherine!)**: I'm glad that I made you experience feelings for Entreri that you've never felt before. Even he wonders why he defended the drow, I think he'll need to do some definite soul searching to find out. He did like the pat on the back though, lol. I'm glad you liked that chapter; it's one of my favorites, lol.

**Lessiehanamoray: **Oh yes, Entreri sparring and Entreri fighting is a parallel I'd pay to see…mind you I'd be standing very far away (considering the things I do to him).

**Lena Silverwing**: Yay! Stawberry daiquiri winecooler! (okay okay, so I was sipping some at the beginning of the chapter, can you tell? Tee hee)

:ducks from a sabre slash, but not before clinking bottles for the toast:

**Kracken L.W.: **Glad you liked the tape measure of doom…I was playing with one and the image leapt into my mind so I ran to the computer to write, lol. And yeah, that orange drink DID make Jarian annoyingly bubbly. I tried hiding with Entreri…but for some reason he put me on his 'To Kill' list…I have no idea why…….

**Psycho101**: Entreri is all unhurt now, well for the moment. He should be so fortunate that what he had was a dream in the beginning of the chapter.

**Iceheart Firesoul**: Entreri just may take up your offer to hide out at your house. But Jarian, his servants, Jarlaxle, and myself won't let him. :gulp: Massively powerful telepath you say?

**Tiggermyk**: Yes, life is good indeed, lol. Well, Entreri was almost in the hands of Jarian, okay so maybe in the folds of his warm, sultry mind…or at least, that's what Jarian claims. Entreri is SO lucky that I didn't do anything mind scarring.

**Unknown**: Jarian is not like other drow. It's as simple as that, lol.


	18. Setting the Stage, Day One

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian and a few other originals however are my creation.

Entreri stared at Jarian's door and muttered, "emotionally." He shook his head and paced, his eyes drifting back to the mahogany door that led into a room the assassin did not wish to enter. He had heard the strangest noises behind the seemingly innocent door, but for nearly an hour there had been nothing but quiet save for the steady sounds of breathing.

In Entreri's mind, in an effort to preserve his sanity, he justified that the drow were just practicing their physical prowess in terms of weaponry. After all, there was more to Jarian's servant than just their status as models and servants. However, when he faced the more sordid possibilities, the kind that Jarlaxle insinuated to him…he could not deny a shudder of revulsion of what they were truly doing. And now he had to enter Jarian's doorway of desire to awaken him for the Fashion Display. The mere prospect was twitchable.

He approached the door. "Jarian, it's time to awaken. We need to be at Costumer's Hall in less than an hour." Hearing no answer he knocked. "Jarian. You need to get up now."

There was still no answer. Entreri banged harder on the door, but received no reply. The drow must have exhausted themselves and were deep in reverie…just his luck.

Entreri took a steadying breath and entered the room. The smell of scented oil and sweat overwhelmed his nostrils. He coughed and his eyes watered until he gained control of his gag reflex. Only after seeing the bed did he put a hand to his mouth to prevent the contents of his stomach from being retched onto the floor.

Jarian and his servants were sleeping and very much naked, entwined in each other's arms atop a plush bed. Entreri had quickly averted his eyes to the floor and picked up a blanket with two fingers, deftly tossing it over the sleeping drow. He cleared his throat.

"Oh Artie, Artie, Artie," Jarian murmured in his sleep as he proceeded to grope a pillow. His eyes fluttered open, not from the noise but from the fact that he was getting rather warm. A heat was rising within him and he sat up in attention. "Artemis! Is this a dream? Are you really at my bedside?" He looked to the blanket over him and gasped, "you covered me up! That was such a tender action!"

"Put on some clothes and get ready," Entreri said, having made his way back to the door. Since the drow were now covered he glared toward the bed. "That includes your servants as well."

Kaifas opened his eyes when Entreri left the room. "He actually came inside the room."

"Yes he did," Maskah said as he lifted the blanket. He stretched and looked to his right, "but why didn't you pursue him Master Jarian? We three could have easily overtaken him and given him the reward he deserves for protecting you."

"I want him to come to me," Jarian said deliberately saying each word with care. "I do so enjoy the chase and seduction, but my victory will be all the more satisfying with him willing." He stroked the blanket with a wicked grin.

Shytolin woke up with a start. "Oh!" He blinked sleepily, "what happened?"

Kaifas exchanged a mischievous grin with Maskah. "Artemis was in the room! You should have seen it!"

"Oh yes," Maskah said clutching onto Kaifas suggestively, "and Master Jarian had his way with him."

Shytolin's jaw fell open. "And you didn't wake me! Not even to watch! Oh the horror!"

Jarian fondly caressed Shytolin's cheek. "They're just teasing. I would at least let you watch."

Shytolin leaned into Jarian's hand and sighed contently.

Half an hour later, after more noises came from Jarian's room, Entreri growled and banged on the door causing the noises to subside. "We're going to be late!"

The door swung open and Jarian glided out with the slyest of smiles. "There's no need to be flustered Artemis."

Entreri stared. "You're…just wearing black robes?"

"Well of course," Jarian said, "I can't let the competition see what I'm up to." In a husky whisper, "we're all naked under these robes. Would you like to see?"

"No," Entreri said hurriedly, "I believe you." He noted that one of the servants held the chest that contained Jarian's mobile tailoring room. "Now _come _quickly."

"Only for you Artemis even though I'd rather we took our time," Jarian said in a far too delighted tone

Minutes later, Entreri realized what he had said that made Jarian so delighted. At the time he was glad that he was in too much of a hurry to notice. Once he did, he promptly twitched and promised himself that he would take a gulp of the flask he had hid within the confines of his tunic.

Via a back entrance they made their way into Costumer's Hall. Unlike other Fashion Display participants they were inconspicuously making their way to their dressing area, preferring not to be mobbed pre-show. There would be time for that later.

Entreri elbowed his way through a cavalcade of fabric-clad models and breathed a sigh of relief when they made it to their designated changing room. "We made it."

Kaifas, Maskah, and Shytolin cheered. Jarian hugged onto Entreri's arm, "oh thank you Artemis! That was such a stunning display of purpose!"

Prying the drow from his arm as _nicely_ as possibly, "if you want to thank me. Get ready on time for the stage."

"Is there anything else I can do to thank you?" Jarian swayed his hips and leaned his back against the doorframe, slowly sliding downward.

"Maybe later," Entreri said absently. His eyes were focused on a suspicious looking moon elf that had been following them since they entered Costumer's Hall.

"Really! Oh sweet ecstasy!" Jarian entered the changing room and clapped his hands together with renewed determination. "Prepare my mobile tailoring room, we have an audience to awe."

Entreri took a long swig of his hidden flask, but nearly choked on its contents when the suspicious moon elf sidled against him.

"Why hello there," the moon elf said seductively, "you seem rather out of place."

_Why must I always attract the attention of males?_ Entreri put a warning hand on his sabre.

"Now now no need to be hasty," the moon elf said eyeing the way Entreri gripped his sabre. "I was just curious about you is all. Rumor has it that you are the handsome guardian of a most extraordinary drow tailor. I only wish to know if it is a tailor I have been closely acquainted with before. Is this the room of Jarian? The drow that Jarlaxle has been raving about?"

"Jarlaxle's ravings tend to have a basis in fact, so yes this is Jarian's room. You can't see him now though, he's rather busy," Entreri said.

"I imagine that he is quite _busy_." The moon elf's eyes lit up in excitement. "Does he still have those two delectable servants with him?"

Entreri blinked. "He has three servants."

"_Three_!" The moon elf expelled the word breathlessly. "My, I shall have to have a long talk with Jarian this evening. Do tell him that _Raelos _sends his warmest regards."

Entreri curtly nodded acquiescence and folded his arms. Raelos the moon elf stared at his sabre the way Jarian did sometimes and it was unsettling.

While action was occurring backstage, the area surrounding the stage was a flurry of activity. Pamphleteers from across the world of Faerûn flocked to Waterdeep to chronicle the latest fashions. They readied their parchment and drawing wands, waiting anxiously to capture the models' images. Others in the magical community prepared memory charms to commit the entirety of the show in their minds so they could artistically scribe it onto paper later.

Jarlaxle watched people being herded like rothé and was growing more amused by the second. Of course this could have been because of the wine he was drinking, but he was in command of all his faculties and enjoying his prime spot near the stage, just the right distance away from the mob. The first day of the Fashion Display wasn't open to the general public. It was for the higher ups in society, fashion patrons, and other exclusive groups of people. Day two would play to the public. They key to getting to the third day was not only to win over three mysterious judges (Jarlaxle would personally find out who they were later this evening), but the audience as well, for their support was what the various tailors required to be successful.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"My dear Alurra," Jarlaxle said with a wide smile. He allowed his eyes to drift over her bejeweled body, enjoying the subtle squirm of her shoulders, "Why yes, I am enjoying myself. Do sit and have a drink."

"I'm trying to coordinate a Fashion Display," she said. Her words were confirmed when she was pulled aside to scribe her name.

"I can see that," Jarlaxle said. Regardless he poured her a drink. "But, I am of the opinion that there is _always_ time for a drink. It will help settle your nerves."

Alurra took hold of the wine glass. She looked back and forth, abandoning her lady-like demeanor to drain the contents of the glass.

"Feeling better?"

Placing the glass down she admitted, "My nerves are settled a bit."

"I'll settle other things later," Jarlaxle said smoothly. Looking past her shoulder, "I do believe you are being summoned to the stage."

Taking a moment to settle herself, she smoothed her hair and headed to work. Jarlaxle poured another glass of wine and savored sweetness as he watched Alurra, until his attention was diverted by a Waterhadvian noble that obstructed his view.

"This is so dreary," the human said in a nasally voice, tossing back his gaudy cloak. "Why do we even need a display? My work is the absolute best."

His servant, a middle-aged man with premature gray hair sought to comfort the whiney Lord. "This is merely the first day Lord Phinagon. The Display is meant to showcase all manners of fashion from across the world. There is nothing wrong with broadening one's horizons in the interest of diversity."

Lord Phinagon huffed. "Diversity. Please, you're such an idealist Brak. The only diversities I'm interested in are the jewels I count every morning."

Jarlaxle swirled his wine and twitched a very Entreri-like twitch. _Prissy nobles, I –hate- prissy nobles._

Brak rolled his eyes behind his Lord's back and paled at the sight of Jarlaxle. He had never seen a drow before; he looked to the dark elf in a mixture of curiosity and stark fear. He stared until Jarlaxle gave a friendly wave. Brak smiled and waved back.

"Brak, you fool, who are you-" The Lord's words died in his throat as he saw Jarlaxle. He clutched his chest in shock and yelped, "a drow!" He leapt behind his servant, ready to push him into the drow's path if need be.

The servant composed himself and gently pried himself away from his Lord. "He is here for the festivities Milord. Does not the wide brimmed hat festooned with purple feathers denote his affinity for fashion?" Brak smiled sweetly, resisting the urge to wallop his young Lord over the head. _I was not his tutor for ten years only to be sacrificed as a servant to this drow._

"Oh right," Lord Phinagon said giving an exaggerated bow to Jarlaxle, "I knew that." He continued on, ignoring Jarlaxle.

Jarlaxle nodded at Brak's apologetic bow.

"A visible show of restraint," a voice to Jarlaxle's side observed.

_Now what? _Jarlaxle turned to meet the pleasant smile of a Gold Elf, flocked by his female entourage. "Greetings Narfindal, I am surprised to see you off your island."

"Evermeet did not wish to be left out of this Display," Narfindal said in the most rehearsed of tones. "We of isle were sent here to show the superiority of the true Elven race."

Jarlaxle stared at his Elven entourage, composed of lithe Golden elves whose eyes twinkled as Jarlaxle stood to stretch. Narfindal looked to the elves with a critical eye and they wrinkled their noses in derision at Jarlaxle. "Well, I wish you the best of luck in that endeavor."

"We'll be watching you for tricks," Narfindal said matter-of-factly.

"You do that," Jarlaxle said, "and I guarantee I'll give you a Display unlike that which you have ever glimpsed before."

Narfindal let loose a haughty smirk. "We shall see."

The lights dimmed and everyone's attention turned to the stage.

**_Author's Note: _**Yay for winter break! I was determined to get a chapter in after finals and papers were completed (I won't even go into my continuing battle with migraines). In light of the new policy regarding reviewer responses (I'm sooo not happy about that), I may only respond to anonymous reviewers at the end of the chapter being that I cannot respond to their author name (but do feel free to leave an email address). So, if for the previous chapter you get these random emails from me, be not alarmed their my late responses and of course once I hear from you for this chapter I will respond ever so swiftly. I really love hearing from people (the muses do too and believe me, it's interesting when they take over the keyboard).

Also, yay for surpassing the 200th review:hands out holiday cookies:

On a random note in the beginning of the chapter when Jarian murmurs, "oh Artie, Artie, Artie" inspiration was received from the movie _Robin Hood Men in Tights_ when Latrine the witch clutches onto the cardboard cut-out of Lord Rottingham murmuring, "oh Rotty, Rotty, Rotty." I highly recommend the movie for a laugh if you haven't seen it.

For this chapter I was debating including the staging of the first day, but I think I shall dedicate the next chapter for that. This chapter brings in a cast of new characters that shall interact with our mercenaries in due course. So, I've literally set the stage.

For the next chapter, what is Raelos the moon elf's prior relationship with Jarian? Will the prissy noble Lord Phinagon cause another Entreri twitch? Will the appearance of Gold elves fashion cause a damper in the mood? Stay tuned, for next chapter we'll have just a little taste of the fashions across the Realms. And to think folks, Day One is only the beginning…just wait until Days Two and Three…mwhuahahaha!

_Entreri: _:sighs: Great, she's laughing evilly again.

_Jarlaxle: _:licking a candy cane: I like her evil laughs, it means she has something up her sleeve.

_Jarian: _:skips about with some mistletoe, with his servants, getting ready for the holidays:

_Authoress: _You guys don't know how tempted I am to write a special Christmas Special as a side-ficlet… :looking to readers: Hmm, should I ?

**_Random: _**To all my reviewers, anonymous and members…thank you! Your comments and reviews really brighten my day! To 'She-Who-Forgot-Her-Password' I expect you to make yourself known (drop a review/email/PM/etc), lol. After reading that little snippet in your review I was in hysterics laughing…it was like you snuck into my home and watched my Muses. They do so enjoy making an appearance at the end of chapters.


	19. Day One

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian and a few other originals however are my creation.

Alurra pressed a skin colored film over her voice box and smoothed it against her throat. Her voice was magically amplified as she smiled dazzlingly to the small crowd that had gathered. "Greetings noble purveyors and patrons of fashion to the first day of the Waterdeep Fashion Display." Polite applause met her ears and she waited for it to dissipate in order to continue. "Today you will see fashion from the many exotic locales of Faerûn, with a variety different races competing for a place in the coveted third day event." Sweeping her arms back she displayed the stage, "and now without further waiting, behold the beauty that is Faerûn!"

She clapped her hands and sparks burst forth from the sides of the stage, creating a smoky aftermath that clung to bottom of the stage floor. Musicians in the balconies above the stage proceeded to play their instruments in unison, creating a cohesively upbeat score for the ensuing models.

Backstage, Jarian fidgeted excitedly, making last minute adjustments on his models' outfits. "Do you hear that my dear models? Sparks have ignited to signal the commencement of the Display, where you will light the fires of the judges into a frenzy!"

Maskah chuckled. "Can those sparks be kindled later tonight?"

Kaifas turned to him and gave a wily smile. "Only if Master Jarian is kind enough to hold the wicks."

Shytolin looked lost in the metaphor, but after some helpful motions from Maskah and Kaifas, enlightenment was thrust upon him. "Oh!"

"Places everyone," Entreri said quickly, ushering them along. He didn't want to hear Jarian's reply. "You're eighth in the line up."

"That's the spirit Artemis!" Jarian looked highly pleased. "You would make a fine stage manager for a heated performance."

Entreri was too rushed to twitch as he had the models line up for the stage. He grabbed Jarian's arm, not wanting to lose him in the crowd and ushered him to the area where the tailors could watch their models' walks. Jarlaxle would kill him (or probably do worse) if anything happened to the drow. Jarian had no complaints as 'his Artemis' led the way.

They navigated their way to the side of the stage, behind a shimmering curtain that veiled all those who sat behind its billowing presence. The spectators behind the curtain could watch the stage, but those on the other side would be unable to see through to them. Similar curtains lined the upper balconies opposite the stage, making everyone wonder just which one belonged to the mysterious judges.

A smile appeared on Jarian's face as he noticed a plush chair, replete with golden embroidery, scribing his name. "Oh lovely, reserved seating!"

Arms twined around Jarian's neck and Entreri leapt back, sabre in hand. "Reserved seating right next to me," a voice whispered into Jarian's ear.

"_Raelos_!" The name was exhaled breathlessly and Jarian let loose a squee that startled some nearby tailors. "By the gods I haven't seen you ages!" He turned around and hugged onto the moon elf. He ran his fingers through Raelos' black hair, his massaging fingers causing the hair to let loose a lustrous blue sheen that matched the moon elf's sapphire encrusted eyes. "It's so _good_ to see you again."

Entreri stared helplessly, sheathing his sabre, as Raelos gave Jarian's cheek a friendly caress. "It is good indeed. I am pleased to witness that the rumors are true. I look forward to seeing your work publicly displayed."

Jarian's ruby eyes sparkled. "You are displaying as well? Oh splendid! We'll dazzle the crowd for sure."

"Speaking of dazzling," Raelos practically purred, "I understand that you have _three _servants now."

A wicked grin appeared on Jarian's lips. "That I do. Pray tell, where did you hear that?"

Entreri cleared his throat. "If you two are finished, the models are coming out now."

Raelos bade Jarian and his bodyguard to sit. "Well Jarian, I heard such from this human right here."

"Oh, naughty Artemis is telling all my secrets," Jarian said.

"I don't know any of your secrets nor do I wish to know," Entreri said. _By the abyss Jarian, I'm in a disguise and you just told this moon elf my name._

The spectators cheered and attention was drawn to the stage. Three dwarves walked down the stage, whether they were male or female, one really couldn't tell. They wore metal armor, which shined brightly off of the flickering torches lining the stage. Ornately crafted mithril rested easily on their forms as they showed off the metal work befitting the Dwarven fashion sense.

"That looks like the metalwork of Heydin Darkanvil," Raelos said. "The crest on that mithril tunic bares his symbol."

Jarian nodded. "I've heard of him, a fine worker of metal, but he needs something more."

"Indeed, he lacks the creative vision necessary to propel him into a position of prestige," Raelos said agreeing.

Entreri looked to the unlikely pair, hunched forward in their seats, shoulder to shoulder, as they quietly talked amongst themselves. _They're having a conversation that isn't laden with innuendos. . ._

A triad of halflings appeared on the stage next and Entreri raised an eyebrow as Jarian and Raelos shared a shudder. He looked to the models and stared unblinkingly.

"Skins," Raelos wrinkled his nose. "Those were out a decade ago and even then I never did have a taste for them. . .especially since the heads of the animals are still on these particular outfits. Must they always think with their stomachs?"

"I can think of much better parts of the anatomy to think with," Jarian said.

Entreri forced himself to stare at the models as the two elves proceeded to whisper excitedly about 'certain parts of the anatomy.' However, he leaned forward in his seat as the human Calimsham models took the stage. Harem-like outfits in bright colors flitted across the stage as models swayed in synchrony to the music. . .

"I see that Artemis," Jarian said slyly.

"You see nothing," Entreri said flatly, leaning back and folding his arms.

"I see it too," Raelos said with a grin. "Apparently he's not as cold as he appears."

"He can be quite warm when the situation presents itself," Jarian said excitedly.

Entreri's knuckles turned white as he gripped his sabre's hilt thinking and repeating, _I will not kill the elves._

"Oh!" Raelos' attention was drawn back to the stage. "My models are next!"

"Oh blissful excitement!"

Entreri braced himself, ready for the worse. . .

. . .however, the worse turned out to be not half bad.

"Two males and a female accent my models' outfits nicely," Raelos narrated, "notice how the males embody the earth tones, while the female is accented with vibrant colors that are calmed by her companions."

"A female in the mix," Jarian noted, "you always did prefer the best of everything. The outfits are stunning, earthy but sleek."

Raelos smiled. "Thank you, I am glad to hear you say such. You know of course that I am saving my best for later."

"Naturally," Jarian grinned.

A commotion to their left caused all heads in the front row to turn.

"_I _should be privy to the front seats. _Me_ and _me_ alone," a nasally voice intoned.

Entreri slowly turned his head and twitched. _A noble, I absolutely detest whiney nobles._

A frantic Costumer's Hall attendant was trying to calm him. "Lord Phinagon, we cannot possibly read your mind on where you would prefer your seat to be. This room is for _all_ the tailors and the seats are for those who arrive _early,_ before the Display has started. If you are not satisfied with your reserved booth, then please take it up with the Ushering manager as I cannot and will not tell the people in their seats to move."

"But my models will be up soon!"

"Calm yourself Milord, you are creating a scene," his servant Brak plead. He wanted nothing more than to hide behind a curtain and get away from his Lord.

"Silence Brak," Lord Phinagon growled. "I will have my way. And when Father hears of this, he will be positively appalled at the treatment that I am receiving."

Raelos and Jarian were trying to concentrate on the Silverymoon models, but it seemed that even they were annoyed by this human's presence. They exchanged quiet whispers as the Gold elf models made their way down the stage, contrasting the silver of the previous models with their rich golden robes.

"I will not be ignored!" Lord Phinagon went to stand in the front of the tailors, many of who proceeded to glare at him. "Prepare to see true fashion!"

Entreri wasn't sure what came down the stage next…but he knew it was nothing close to 'true fashion.' Three female humans, none of whom looked very happy, but pasted fake smiles on their faces regardless, modeled off the most gaudy noble's clothes Entreri had ever seen. He might not have known fashion very well, but he knew what was atrocious.

"The colors are all wrong for the models," Raelos lamented.

"And the cut is dreadful with no concern for improving on an outdated concept," Jarian said stifling a gag.

Collective murmurs of discontent filled the room and Lord Phinagon strode proudly out, Brak apologizing profusely to the room when his Lord was out of earshot. However, murmurs of content started filling the room when another set of models proceeded on stage.

"Oh ecstasy! Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin are up!"

Raelos' eyes practically fell out of his head at the models. "You _do _have three of them! What a fine three indeed! They embody their outfits splendidly."

"The bright colors contrast their dark skin and I just had to show that skin off," Jarian said. "The neck halter, leading into the keyhole opening of the top is a metaphor for the mysteries that have yet to be unlocked. The shiny colored discs of the paillette top reflect beauty in all its forms, while the half thigh clinging pants draw the eye to _other_ things."

"Indeed and the rings around the arms are a very nice touch," Raelos said with an appreciative nod.

"Thank you," Jarian said, "I think you and I should discuss special touches later this evening."

"Truly an excellent idea," Raelos said with a nod. "We should of course include your delectable models in the discussion as well."

"Of course," Jarian said. Turning to his left, "How about you Arte-"

"No."

Jarian pouted for a moment, but brightened when Raelos pat his back reassuringly. "Let's go collect my models then. The offer is also open to any of your models as well of course, minus the female unless," he looked to Entreri as if offering, but the assassin shook his head and stood. He didn't need Jarian setting him up.

"Your room then?" Raelos followed Jarian and his bodyguard.

Jarian nodded. "It is a fine place for _discussions_."

Entreri suppressed a groan, realizing he was going to have to stand guard outside of that 'discussion' room.

When the last models left the stage, Alurra waited for the applause to die down before she took the stage once again. "Thank you all for your patience and enthusiasm on this First Day. On behalf of Costumer's Hall we invite you to partake in the refreshments in the adjacent room, but do be sure to get your rest because many more wonderful outfits of fashion await. Today was only a small taste of a feast that will leave you asking for seconds and thirds. Do be sure to claim your seats early tomorrow. The public will be clamoring for places to watch, so settle yourselves accordingly."

Jarlaxle watched the stage from his raised position, lightly running a finger along the brim of his hat. Oh, he'd settle himself all right and he'd make sure he got more than a small taste this evening…

Slowly rising he smiled and gave a wave to Alurra down below.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Just in time for Valentine's Day! Hah! Take that homework! I can't wait to get my degree folks, then I can finally concentrate on writing. Apologies once again for the late update; work, homework, and tutoring took over. Hmm, wonder if I can somehow sneak in time for a Valentine's Special? Oh yes, that reminds me, for those who haven't seen it, back around Christmas time I wrote a little bit of crack entitled "Jarlaxle's Christmas Special" full of some of the characters used here. Thanks to those who reviewed it! 

Next chapter, Day Two if the Fashion Display brings in the general public and the outfits start to get all the more complex when the tailors have to present two different types of outfits all in the same day. Will Jarlaxle find out what the judges are looking for? Will Jarian and Raelos leave their 'discussion room' in time for stage? Will Entreri ever get a break from guard duty? Stay tuned…

_Jarian:_ Lady Authoress, what's Valentine's Day?

_Entreri:_ Answer that and die Authoress.

_Authoress: _Um. . . :looks to Jarlaxle:

_Jarlaxle: _You can't kill the Authoress Entreri, we need her and besides she's entertaining.

_Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin_: Our needs must be taken care of!

_Authoress: _Yeah that's right. . .wait. . .what!

_Jarian: _Tee hee. . .

_Entreri:_ :twitch:

_Jarlaxle:_ :chuckle:

**Once again thank you to all readers and reviewers. Your comments always bring a needed smile to my face. THANK YOU:hugs:**

:hands out Valentine flowers, candy, delightful pictures of choice characters. . .er, nothing (wishes she could draw better or could'bribe' a really good fanartist), etc.:


	20. Day Two Part One

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian and a few other originals however are my creation.

_It's been 5 hours. . .what could they possibly be 'discussing?'_ Artemis Entreri posed the question in his mind, yet he did not wish to answer it or even acknowledge that he thought it. He _knew _what they were doing, but his mind refused to even contend with the torrid mental images that the drow were trying to inflict on him. _There are five drow in that room, five! How is that even possible?_

"Stop that," he said, silencing his own thoughts.

"Are you talking to yourself Entreri?" Jarlaxle nonchalantly entered the room and fixed his disheveled vest, a rakish smile on his lips. "That's not conducive to good health you know, I think you are in need of a break after this Display is over. Then again, you are in need of many things, most of which you refuse to accept from my amorous connections."

"Amorous connections? Is that what you're calling them now?"

The drow chuckled. "It makes them sound professional."

Raelos stumbled out of the discussion room, interrupting an Entreri eye roll. A wide smile was on his lips as he proffered a bow to the room's occupants. "Thank you for your fine hospitality Master Jarlaxle," turning to Entreri, "and you Master Artemis, thank you for your constant vigilance. I do hope that next time you join us for our discussions, you would be able to watch things so much better."

When the moon elf left the room Jarlaxle couldn't resist, "are you secretly a voyeur Entreri?"

"Only if you're secretly celibate Jarlaxle."

The drow laughed at the absurd notions, noting the gleam of amusement in the human's eyes.

-----

A new day dawned as night left the cutting board, unfurling rays of light like fabric from a bolt. Grooming commenced in all areas of the suite as Day Two of the Fashion Display promised an early start. Entreri carefully scraped any semblance of a whisker from his face, smoothing his razor on a towel after each precise stroke.

Splashing soapy water onto his face he barely winced at the stinging soap that leaked between his eyelids, knowing full well that his eyes would have more to worry about with the ensuing runway performances. He left the washroom, chewing on a piece of dried meat as he went through a weapons check.

Jarlaxle watched the assassin over his morning drink, slowly sipping the sweet liquid as the steam slightly obscured his vision. Why the assassin refused to dine with him to instead eat the rations of the Bregan D'aerthe guards puzzled him so, but he had to admire the fact that Entreri considered himself as an equal with the drow, not accepting any offer of dining superiority that might come his way. Well, unless Jarlaxle ordered him to of course.

Communal grooming occurred in Jarian's room, the noises alternating between subdued and boisterous. The tailor and his servants bounded out of the room, smelling of bath foam and lotion. Bubbles from a newly drained bathtub followed them as they ravenously dined, looking as if they had worked up quite the appetite.

Entreri paused in his weapons check to watch a stray bubble, containing a certain tailor's mouse familiar, float towards the door. Tazolg groomed himself in the bubble, glowing a rather rosy pink as he saw Entreri. The assassin sighed and popped the bubble, catching the mouse in his hand.

_Squeak squeak._ It fluttered the water out of its fairie wings and flew over to the table to nibble on some leftovers.

"You're welcome," Entreri murmured.

A choked sputter at the end of the table drew the attention of the room over to Jarlaxle.

"Are you all right?" Jarian asked between mouthfuls of fruit. Fruit which was dripping down his chin and was being cleaned by Shytolin who was wiping away the juice with his ton-

"Yes, I'm fine," Jarlaxle said with a smile. "The last remnants of a fine drink are always strong." He looked over to Entreri as if saying, _I saw you being nice to the mouse._

Entreri dutifully ignored the table's occupants.

"We should depart for Costumer's Hall," Entreri said, standing pointedly near the door. He was growing ever more disturbed by Jarian and his servants' eating habits.

"Indeed," Jarlaxle said. "I have to deliver the staging information to Alurra…I mean, Lady Tarbrossen."

Raising an eyebrow Entreri asked, "you know her on a first name basis."

"Oh he knows her more than that I'm sure," Jarian said, slyly giggling.

Dryly, "then why didn't you deliver it the other night?"

"We were busy doing _other _things," Jarlaxle said.

Entreri closed his eyes for a moment, thwarting a twitch and opened them once again. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it and left the room.

Kaifas cackled in delight. "Master Jarlaxle reduced the assassin to speechlessness!"

"The assassin is always quiet," Maskah said, "but speechlessness indeed is an amusing phenomenon."

Shytolin, busy cleaning rogue juice-drips, chuckled into Jarian's neck.

"Come along my ebony lovelies," Jarian said rising, "Artemis is waiting and we do have much to prepare for this day."

Entreri leaned against the corridor wall and waited for the drow, once they finally appeared he started to lead them.

"Are you excited about today, Artemis?"

"I don't get excited."

"How sad!"

The assassin stopped and turned to give Shytolin a long, hard glare at his outburst.

Jarian shivered at the intensity of the glare directed toward his slightly oblivious servant. The tailor was more excited than intimidated by the glare and promptly decided that he would have to have excitement enough for his Artemis.

Entreri navigated them through the growing crowd, recalling that today the general public was allowed to view the event.

"Look! A tailor and their models!"

Hand went to sabre in the blink of an eye and Entreri glared as the eyes of the crowd shifted in their direction.

Jarian waved and posed, "oh my, we have _admirers_!"

"No time," Entreri said grabbing Jarian's arm. An act which made Jarian nearly melt on the spot, now was probably not the appropriate time to mention to the assassin that Jarian had a fantasy about being a shameless captive and this was how it started. "You can preen to the public _after _the day is done. We have no time for this mob."

Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin stopped waving to the approaching crowd, pouting slightly, but brightened as they watched Entreri pull Jarian along. . .unlike Entreri, they _knew_ about the fantasy. . .in detail.

"My hero," Jarian murmured as he nuzzled his head against Entreri's arm.

Two glares, one shove, and three pouts later Entreri had managed to get the drow into the mobile tailoring room to prepare for the runway.

-----

Jarlaxle jovially entered Costumer's Hall and delivered the relevant stage information for the cultural portion of the day. Just as he was about to flirt with some models, an elegant hand was placed on his shoulder.

"You've already done enough sullying since your arrival," a haughty voice intoned.

"Narfindal." Jarlaxle inwardly groaned and turned to grin at the Gold elf. "Are you the personal caretaker of all the females here? Their elf in shining armor? You do make a rather dashing knight of fashion."

"You disgust me," Narfindal said.

"You sound like someone I know," Jarlaxle chuckled.

"Regardless of any ill mannered views I harbor over your dark elven breed I have a degree of respect for you and your tailor," Narfindal begrudgingly admitted.

Jarlaxle noted the elf absently fingering a quarter moon pendant, indicative of the deity Corellon, creator of the elven race. _Hmm, I don't think he's going to like what Jarian has planned for the stage._ "Likewise, but I do not need a deity to remind me of such. We've grown proud in our 'old age' Narfindal, but pride can go a long way in the bedroom."

Narfindal winced, cursing his clerics for making him face the drow. "Is that all you think about?"

"Perhaps," Jarlaxle chuckled. A foul smell accosted his nose and he watched Narfindal pale and press a handkerchief to his nose.

"What is that foul odor?"

"The stench of a noble," Jarlaxle muttered.

Lord Phinagon coughed as he ordered Brak to continue spraying the cologne onto his form. He appeared to be in the process of wooing, a process that was failing miserably since creatures of both genders were avoiding the overpowering stench.

"Humans are such strange creatures," Narfindal commented.

"Strange, but intriguing," Jarlaxle said.

The Gold elf looked curiously to the drow. "And you are not?"

Jarlaxle smiled mysteriously and proceeded to his special booth.

Narfindal looked to the ceiling and sighed, wanting to be out of the abominable human city and back in Evermeet. Straightening his poise he lifted his chin and walked to his private viewing area to view the Display.

-----

Alurra Tarbrossen smoothed her hair and readied the stage notes before her. She not only had to introduce each of the participants, but also had to explain the cultural significance behind the outfits. Taking out a slender wand she tapped its burgundy tip against the parchments and closed her eyes as the words lifted from the page and into her mind, indigo calligraphy reflecting in her eyes until the knowledge settled.

After a few moments, she was ready for the stage.

-----

"The show is starting soon, where's Jarian?"

Entreri shifted his attention from a crowd of many to a moon elf of one. "He's readying his models for the stage."

"How do they look?"

Entreri shrugged. "My attention was elsewhere." _He wouldn't let me see the outfits anyway._

"I'm sure it was."

"Raelos!"

The moon elf turned and smiled. "There you are Jarian! We must hurry or we shall lose our seats."

Entreri sighed and jogged to keep up with the excited pair.

-----

Alurra took the stage as the lights dimmed and the crowd cheered in frenzied anticipation. Hours of waiting in line and clamoring for seats had made them anxious.

"Hello everyone and welcome to Day Two of the Waterdeep Fashion Display!" Uproarious applause met her ears and she smiled to the crowd. "Day One was filled with stunning outfits that truly showed the innovations of tailors and the patrons that support them. Competition for the coveted slots of the third day will certainly be fierce, so we can all expect the first half of this second day to be filled with splendor. In a few moments, models will showcase outfits that represent their cultural heritage, showcasing their race, history, traditions, and beliefs. We at Costumer's Hall ask that you respect all that traverse this stage, setting aside grudges new and old, for the sake of fashion. Now, let us truly enjoy the diversity that is Faerûn! "

She snapped both her fingers and fluorescent orbs were emitted from the sides of the stage, bursting above the crowd in a spectrum of color that twinkled and lingered before settling to the ground.

Jarian and Raelos cheered with the crowd, blending their native tongues (in more ways than one) with those of the other races that surrounded them. Entreri continued to sit as the crowd rose around him, clapping, cheering, and hooting for the models to go onstage. He could almost sense 'a look' from Jarlaxle for his lack of participation so he clapped half-heartedly to be polite.

-----

The lighting dimmed to candlelight as musicians played a melody that flowed like the ocean's waves. The stage became basked in light blue and Alurra motioned to the main stage from her platform at the side.

"Behold the wonders of the aquatic elves, paying homage to their patron deity Deep Sashelas, god of creation, beauty, magic, and knowledge."

Mist on the stage formed a dolphin that dissipated as the models entered the stage, gauging a positive reaction from the crowd.

"The dolphin is the symbol of the 'knowledgeable one' and the models wear modernized versions of the clothing that adorns their clerics. The soft clothing and hard mail signify that of a pacifistic warrior."

Fluid moving elves modeled sea green vestments that were layered by seashell mail. They posed for the crowd and then receded backstage as if they were the tide.

-----

"A fine display," Raelos commented, nodding appreciatively.

"Indeed," Jarian agreed, "it is a fine start to this day."

Entreri tried to pay attention as best as he could, but after a while he began to see a pattern…while many of the models exhibited the dress of their people, it was basically a way to give homage to their deities, almost as if the Display was an offering to them.

His attention was drawn back to the Display when Jarian poked him and whispered, "Now there's an idea."

"What?"

"The clothing that the halflings are wearing is edible!"

The assassin was surprised that the clothing even made it onstage, knowing the voracious eating habits of the halflings. "Who would actually _wear_ edible clothing?"

"You." Jarian grinned at him. "After all, some parts of the outfits I made for you are edible."

"I…what!"

With a grin, Jarian turned his attention back to the stage causing Raelos to lick his lips.

Entreri was too horrified to form words.

"Oh glee, I am next!" Raelos clapped happily.

"For our next display, we have outfits made by the moon elf Raelos that represent each aspect of Angharradh, the consort of Corellon."

"First we have Hanali, a goddess of love and beauty that is worshipped by fountains and springs." A moon elf dressed in gold entered the stage, fabric billowing behind him as he walked, though one could not tell that this was a 'he'. Light poured from the stage as if in fact a fountain was exhibiting the model.

"Second we have Aerdrie Faenya, goddess of air, birds, and weather. Worship services to her are held on hilltops and feathers are sacrificed annually." Another moon elf entered the stage and the model stretched, showcasing the feathers that draped from his arms. The model seemed to walk on air as he posed.

"Third we have Sehanine Moonbow, she is a Lady of Dreams and serenity surrounds like a mantle of moon dust." As if on cue magical specks of moon dust penetrated the air and gathered around the female model that walked onstage.

The crowd cheered when the models posed and even after they left the stage.

-----

"That was amazing Raelos," Jarian said giving him a congratulatory kiss on each cheek.

Raelos blushed. "Come now, I am sure that your models will rival mine."

Entreri slowly blinked as the moon elves left the stage. _Two of those models were male and I couldn't tell…_

-----

"And going with a similar theme, we have the Gold elves of Evermeet, escorted to our city by Master Narfindal they embody the spirit of Corellon, in all his glory."

The Gold elves entered the stage in synchrony with a hauntingly beautiful song that echoed in the Hall. The models each wore gossamer robes of the finest azure, silver circlets about their foreheads.

"They wear outfits in homage to their clerics that worship the Creator of all elves, the Protector and Preserver of all life, Corellon Larethian."

The crowd broke out into applause as the models posed within a magical crescent moon.

"And now at the opposite end of the pantheon, we have the dark elves of Bregan D'aerthe, outfits tailored by Jarian under the patronage of Jarlaxle."

The entire Hall darkened to blackness and several people cried out in terror. However, lilting music soothed the crowd and a slender figure twirled onstage. Artificial moonlight lit the stage as Shytolin danced seductively. It appeared as if he was wearing nothing, but after he produced a silver sword of light his outfit was revealed in a flurry of vibrant heat signature colors.

"What you are seeing are the infrared colors of the drow, seeing what they see in the Underdark. This particular model is Eilistraee, whose Surface followers dance nude in the moonlight with a silver sword."

The stage plummeted to darkness again, but light slowly unveiled a materializing shadow that revealed Maskah. A mask of writhing shadow disguised his face and his body was adorned with an infrared outfit that was accentuated by a cloak of similar make.

"Behold Vhaeraun, the Masked Lord, god of male drow, thieves, assassins, and rogues."

The crowd expected the stage to turn black again when Alurra finished, but instead it was lit with an eerie red glow. The figure of a spider manifested from the blood-laden light and Kaifas entered the stage adorned in the outfit of a high priestess, crimson infrared emanating off his form.

"And finally we have a representation of Lloth, queen of the spiders. Enemies are sacrificed on her behalf and her sacred animals are arachnids."

Kaifas, Maskah, and Shytolin posed onstage together and the crowd erupted into a thunderous applause.

-----

"I can't believe you actually went through with it," Raelos said in awe. "Representing those figures in public is dangerous, considering their reputations."

"When fashion is concerned, affiliation to a deity can be merely a decoration," Jarian grinned.

The rest of the participants paled in comparison to the prior displays, especially the models of Lord Phinagon who showcased outfits that looked amazingly similar to the ones he displayed on Day One. When he was confronted by another tailor about this fact the Lord proceeded to throw a tantrum.

Alurra surveyed the crowd and returned to the main stage. "Thank you all for your wonderful enthusiasm and participation. We shall reconvene in six hours for the second portion of today's Display to showcase the practicality of an outfit. Versatility, innovation, and style will be key."

Turning to the hidden curtain where the tailors were situated she continued, "and for our tailors we have an additional challenge. You must find one other model, not of your race and not yourself, to showcase a practical outfit. If you can accomplish this then you will be in definite consideration for the third day."

The models behind the curtain were reduced to subdued murmurs, eyes darting back and forth as this new information was processed. _A new model? Not of their race?_

Raelos exhaled in relief. "Thank goodness I have a wood elf in my entourage."

Jarian remained silent. . .and thoughtful.

These were two things that did not bode well.

Jarian slowly turned to regard Entreri.

_Oh hells no. . ._

**Author's Note:** Whew! Finally! College consumed my soul so apologies for the late update, but (glee) I approach my university graduation. Yes, someone out there is giving me an English degree (the fools…buwhahaha!). I spent hours on this chapter, researching (deity information gained from answers **dot** com), looking for my notebook with my notes (figures that I'd get sick, misplace the notes and then have to spend hours reconstructing everything), and acting out the various scenes (you should see my 'Jarian-mode', lol). Hmm, this all might explain why it's ten pages in Microsoft Word, lol.

Next chapter, the second half of Day Two approaches and that means practical outfits. But with this new twist of having to add another model of a different race, whatever will the tailors do? Whatever it is…Entreri is NOT going to like it…

_Entreri_: What do you _mean_ I'm not going to like it?

_Authoress: _I…erm…it's a surprise?

_Entreri_: I HATE surprises…especially from _you_.

_Jarian_: I adore surprises!

_Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin:_ Us too!

_Jarlaxle_: It's not as bad as you think Entreri.

_Entreri_: Wait…you're all in on this too! (Twitch)

**Okay _HUGS_ to everyone who has stuck with me this far, reads the fic, and reviews (I love reviews, yes I do _grin wink nudge_)**


	21. Day Two Part Two

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian and a few other originals however are my creation.

Knock. Knock.

_Silence._

Knock. Knock. Knock.

_Annoyed silence._

"Entreri, sulking is not attractive."

The assassin turned to the door, only to make sure the lock was in place. "I'm not sulking."

"Then what _are_ you doing?"

Entreri slipped out the window and murmured, "I'm hiding."

Jarlaxle pressed his ear against the door and suppressed a chuckle as he heard the telltale signs of an escape.

"Is he coming out?" Maskah asked in a hopeful tone, fidgeting with a scrap of fabric.

"Not anytime soon," Jarlaxle replied with an amused lilt in his voice. "He'll come around. We just need to give him time."

Kaifas ran a worried hand through his hair. "But Master Jarian needs to do the final adjustments for his outfit!"

"Your hair!" Shytolin 'tsked' dramatically and proceeded to tidy the frazzled tangle of locks.

Jarlaxle sighed and ushered them to their room with outstretched arms. "You three have enough to worry about. Content yourselves with stage preparations and all will be well. You shall see."

Maskah watched their captain leave and stage-fell into Kaifas' arms. "Oh the drama! Whatever shall we do!"

Kaifas used one hand to steady Maskah and used the other to place the back of his palm against his forehead, "oh tragedy!"

Shytolin stared, eyebrows furrowed in puzzled perplexion, "are we in trouble?"

"Were you distracted again, dear Shytolin?" Kaifas asked in sympathy, truly lamenting Shytolin's lack of comprehension.

Maskah leaned back against Kaifas, reaching out a hand to stroke Shytolin's cheek. "Would you like me to explain it to you?"

Shytolin nodded.

"The judges of the Fashion Display have decided to limit the competition for the Third Day, by sweetening the challenge. Master Jarian must find an additional model that is not of his race to model with us onstage. By doing this, the judges can see how innovative the tailors are by forcing them to make adjustments to their outfits in accordance to diversity. The lamentable issue in our case is that Artemis, a human, a person Master Jarian can tailor for, does not wish to model," Maskah explained.

Shytolin had since gathered his knees to his chest and stared with rapt attention. He tilted his head slightly as if still confused.

"You over explained," Kaifas whispered.

"I did?" Maskah drummed his fingers against Kaifas' thigh, eliciting a content murmur from his makeshift chair. "Hmm, well let's see, how can I put this simply? Ah yes, I know. If we want to model on the Third Day we need Artemis to join us onstage wearing an outfit that Master Jarian made for him."

"Oh! I get it!" Shytolin leapt to his feet. "Artemis is shy!"

Maskah facepalmed and sighed, while Kaifas just nodded and said soothingly, "yes, that's right Shytolin. Artemis is shy and we'll have to do our best to make him feel less shy once he's convinced to go onstage."

--------------------------

Artemis Entreri traversed the roof of Costumer's Hall, nimbly twisting and turning his heels in concurrence with the various grooves.

A wisp of sweetened smoke met his nostrils and he drew his dagger toward the odor.

"Put that away, you have no need for it young man," a masculine voice chortled.

Entreri assessed the darkly clad stranger that melded with the shadows and sheathed his dagger. "I do not need the dagger _out_."

"That good are you?"

Entreri nodded and kneeled, resting lightly on his ankles.

"I thought so, especially with the way you handled the rooftops."

"You were watching me?"

"It was either you or the birds," the stranger laughed. "Regardless, if the heel of your boot was softer I would have imagined you navigating them at a quieter and swifter pace."

"Perhaps," Entreri said noncommittally.

"Who are you running from?"

Entreri absently put a hand to his dagger. "I run from no one."

"Ahh, then you are running from some_thing_."

A glare met the stranger's assessment. "I clear my head best when the body is in motion."

"Oh really?"

Another glare met the stranger and this time it critically assessed him. The man, a human, leaned against the wall, one foot pressed against it while the other stretched out before him. The scent of pipe leaf permeated the air as the stranger took the occasional, delicate puff of his smoking apparatus. "Affirmative. Stillness may open the mind, but physical activity sharpens it."

"Fascinating," the stranger replied, exhaling a curl of smoke. He appeared genuinely intrigued by the concept. Extending his pipe, "would you like some?"

Entreri raised a critical eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"It calms the nerves," the stranger said serenely, "and you know it's not poisonous if I'm partaking in the leaf. Relax, it looks like you need it." He slid down and crossed his legs, continuing the extension of his hand.

Entreri stared at him for a moment, before shifting back against the wall and accepting the pipe. _What the hell…why not? A little serenity above despite the chaos below is a welcome thing._ He slowly inhaled, holding his breath, and then exhaled, passing it back to the stranger. Somehow, on the rooftop, with the approaching sunset, the two men who had not exchanged names seemed like gargoyles reigning over all.

They continued like that for several minutes, passing the pipe betwixt them, silently taking in the surrounding sounds until the leaf smoldered into cinders.

"Don't you have someplace to be?"

"Yes," Entreri said slowly closing his eyes and opening them again. He stood to stretch, turning swiftly on his heel to traverse the roof once more.

The stranger gazed after Entreri and removed a ring on his finger. Long white hair tumbled from the dark cloak and ruby eyes glittered. "Oh Artemis…why can't we be like that more often?"

Raelos peeked his head through a dimensional curtain. "I can't believe your imitation of a human! That was brilliant!"

"Thank you," Jarian grinned, shedding the drab colored cloak with flair, "and now that my little plan is complete, I must spring into action to complete Artemis' outfit." He murmured an incantation, brushing fingers against a jeweled brooch at his neck, and transported his form at the final word into his mobile tailoring room.

------------------------------------------

Entreri snuck back into the washroom and quietly unlatched the lock to enter the main room.

Jarlaxle reclined on a plush chair and savored the last drop of his mushroom wine. "There you are, I was wondering when you were going to come to your senses."

_Glare._

The drow chuckled, "you took even longer in the washroom than Jarian and his servants combined! Now that's saying something."

"Is _he_ in his room?

"If by 'he' you mean Jarian, then yes, _he_ is in his room," Jarlaxle said, "the mobile one to be precise via his Inn's room."

Entreri curtly nodded and knocked on the tailor's door. He was pulled in halfway through his second knock.

"Master Jarian, the other model has arrived," Kaifas said, removing his hand from Entreri's wrist before it was severed.

"Welcome to the inner sanctum," Maskah said slyly, "we never thought we'd get you in here."

"Hello Artemis!" Shytolin waved merrily as Jarian fluttered about his very chiseled…and very naked form.

If not for the drow behind him blocking his route of escape, Entreri would have taken flight out the door. But since the lingering effects of the stranger's leaf softened his rationale, he was more prone to turn to logic. "Jarian, can you please explain to me why your models are wearing nothing?"

"You've never been behind the scenes of a Fashion Display have you?" Jarian walked over to fondly pat his shoulder. "You're so _cute_ when you're modest!"

From the corner, Tazolg let loose an agreeing mouse-squeak.

"To answer your question, in order to ensure the closest possible fit and to make adjustments, I must get as close as possible to my model's skin," Jarian explained.

"I'm not taking off my clothes in front of you all," Entreri said, sniffing as he regarded Jarian.

Jarian looked disappointed, but not surprised. "I know that by now you silly human." He motioned to a privacy screen, "that's why you'll change back there."

"You don't need any measurements," Entreri inquired suspiciously.

"I know your measurements better than I know mine," Jarian said mysteriously. "Now go change, your outfit awaits, along with the stage. Once you've changed we'll discuss stage presentation." Jarian watched Entreri go behind the screen, taking great pleasure in the fact that he could at least see the assassin's shadowed silhouette. And what a fine silhouette it was…

-------------------------------

Jarlaxle made an art of reclining; he did it with such flair that unless you looked closely you would see that his relaxing was merely an illusion belying the ability to strike you down with a simple reach to any of his hidden weapons. Resting his feet on the balcony, one foot over the other, he surveyed the empty stage.

"A bold choice of representations your tailor made earlier," a voice said.

"Narfindal," the drow said simply and then turned to his right, "I was wondering what you would say about that."

The Gold Elf sat beside him, gripping the arms of the chair. "You hide the god and goddess' true natures with beauty. Beauty and terror-stricken awe."

"All deities hide their darker nature with beauty, just in different ways and some do not even bother, taking pleasure in the grotesque," Jarlaxle said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I care not for the ways of the gods. I am a mercenary, living in the moment. I lust for profit…" _among other things_.

Narfindal chuckled, "thus making you beloved and hated by them all. You truly blur the line between good and evil."

"I am that line," Jarlaxle said with glittering eyes as the stage lights dimmed and Alurra's voice reverberated in every corner of Costumer's Hall.

"_Welcome once again to the second half of Day Two of the Waterdeep Fashion Display. Our tailors have been put to the test because of the judge's challenge and their final products will determine placement for the final day. Four models instead of the usual three will showcase practical outfits, with the additional model being of another race. Tension has mounted and the only release will be through…fashion!"_

Wild cheers from the floor crowd echoed in the upper balconies, as the release of excitement appeared to form a luminous star that burst into droplets of light as the cheers escalated to their peak.

Music commenced and models took their walks along the stage. Many business savvy tailors chose not to accept the judge's challenge, contenting themselves to showcase their best practical work, unlike some other tailors who scrambled to make an extra outfit in a desperate fervor.

Perhaps the most obvious outfit wince was when Lord Phinagon attempted to try and pass off a human female for an elf. Her shoulders however, were far too broad, her gait far too rigid, and there was the fact that one of her pointed ears fell to the stage.

"I have to follow that atrocity," Narfindal said with derision, "but at least I can redeem the Elven name."

His models took the stage, three gold elves and a moon elf that reigned over them all, representing the Queen that presided over the island of Evermeet. The models performed prostrations in flowing masquerade gowns, dancing in a courtly manner before shedding the dresses to reveal tightly clad leggings and going through a fight sequence to act as bodyguards to their elven queen.

Raelos' models followed, going through a complex archery sequence that showcased the versatility of the outfits. A forest elf held the target, darting to and fro between the other moon elf models who acted as both trees and archers.

Jarlaxle set his feet down from the balcony's ledge and leaned forward, knowing that Jarian was next. _How will you fare Artemis?_

A soft mist clung to the bottom of the stage and a dark figure slowly made his way onstage. Twin daggers flashed in his hands, as he appeared to fly about the stage in a series of movements, reminiscent of the dire bats that resided in the Underdark. A mask of purest black covered his face, only revealing sallow skin surrounding grim lips. The mask converged to a point at the bridge of his nose, making Artemis Entreri a shadowed predator in search of prey.

Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin converged on him from the shadows. A tingle of magic emanated from the stage as a barrier was created to make sure that whatever fighting occurred onstage would stay onstage and not injure the audience. Their lizard-hide outfits flexed and writhed with their every muscle movement as they converged on the 'prey' that sought to do them 'harm'.

Weapons were pulled from various inter-dimensional pockets and utilized to fight the wild creature that refused to be tamed. Entreri darted across the stage, dodging magic that was thrown at him, using the cloak as a shield against the attacks, twirling it in a dramatic billow that resembled a bat flapping. Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin moved as one concentrating a final attack only to have the 'bat' meet them head on.

The crowd gasped and the four clashed in a burst of sparks, disarming the barrier to have the stage return to normal. As the smoke cleared their outfits had naught a tear, they each bowed and retreated from the stage to the sound of applause.

"A human? That was a human wasn't it?"

"More or less, yes." Jarlaxle stood, an overly pleased smile on his face. "We'll be seeing you tomorrow Narfindal."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yes, Entreri _is_ BATMAN :giggles madly: That seriously didn't occur to me until I was reading it over and went, "by the abyss, my subconscious is messed up." Then again, I am writing on the tail feathers of post-migraine inspiration and did have a slight fever earlier (most of which I was mumbling, 'MUST WRITE').

I ended up going on a slight vacation not too long ago (which was awesome, visited some friends) and let's just say the ideas flowed (and yes, that's why it took a bit for another update…along with some errors). I think my writerly self further awakened (yes, 'writerly'…I have thus concluded that if one has an English degree that one has the permission to make up their own words and that proper punctuation can 'take a hike' if it makes a story _sound_ good).

Next chapter, Day Three _will_ commence. Who precisely will make it to that coveted third day? What surprises await our characters? Will there be any more friendly smoking with a 'stranger'? Stay tuned.

_Entreri:_ "Batman? You made me look like Batman?"

_Authoress:_ "No! You were a representation of a bat from the Underdark, it was mere coincidence that you just happened to be a man dressed as a bat! You just be glad Jarian didn't include the pointy ears!"

_Jarian:_ "Hmm…"

_Jarlaxle: _"Can I be the Joker?"

_Entreri:_ "No."

_Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin: _"Ohhh, it's like cosplay!"

_Entreri: _…

_Jarlaxle:_ "The Authoress can be Catwoman!"

_Authoress:_ "Um…Entreri, pass me that flask of yours…"

_Entreri:_ My flask. :covet:

_Authoress:_ "I'm NOT Catwoman, make Alurra be Catwoman!" :desperately motions to review button to distract everyone:

**Thank you once again everyone for your reviews that ALWAYS make me smile and encourage me to be a better writer. (And of course, sometimes they act as a nudge for some hardcore writing/editing).**


	22. Day Three

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore, Ed Greenwood, etc. I seek not to steal from their creations, only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian and a few other originals however are my creations

Several hours had passed since the last display and rumor was that the judges were deliberating on the third day decisions. Excitement simmered throughout the confines of Costumer's Hall, with the exception of one place--

Artemis Entreri sat in the mobile tailoring room taking refuge in a corner of 'darkness.' It wasn't that this corner was immersed in shadow, it just happened to house the darkest colored fabrics. He still wore the outfit that Jarian had made, minus the mask, which rested in his lap. The assassin wasn't about to admit that he liked the outfit, that it worked rather well with his movements, or that it was the most comfortable outfit he had worn in ages. No, he wasn't about to admit any of that. Instead, he decided to blame the aforementioned outrageous notions on the influence of 'the stranger's leaf.' He sat alone, enjoyed his solitude, and waited for the pleasant haze about his mind to disperse.

A vibrant disturbance however, interrupted his haze-filled solitude.

"How can you be so dismal Artemis? You were an absolute success!"

"I'm not dismal, I'm thinking," Entreri grumbled. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to retire to my room since I am no longer required for the stage."

"You're not staying for the result?" Jarian did nothing to hide his hurt expression.

"No, since Jarlaxle is nearby his personal guards will keep you well protected," Entreri stood, "and besides, it should be obvious at this point that you are guaranteed a place in the third day."

Jarian blinked in surprise. _He has confidence in my work? _"Oh Artemis, are we really so different you and I?"

"Yes."

Jarian laughed. "Perhaps you are right, we are two different beings brought together by circumstance." Approaching him, "however, that does not mean I cannot dream and discontinue lusting after you." The drow headed toward the room where his servants waited, but paused before leaving. "You remind me of Jarlaxle sometimes."

Entreri nearly dropped the mask at Jarian's last statement.

_Me? _

_Similar to Jarlaxle? _

_Improbable. _

He put the mask back on and headed back toward the Inn.

-----

Jarian sighed and leaned back onto a plush divan. He draped one leg over the side and placed his palm against his forehead. Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin sensed his distress and immediately flocked to him.

"Do not fret Master Jarian," Shytolin said as he knelt beside the drow, taking his hand and giving it a gentle pat.

"We must maintain an optimistic attitude," Maskah said as he reached down to Jarian's head. He started to massage the drow's scalp, fingers kneading into sweet smelling hair. "And set an example for the other tailors and models."

"Indeed," Kaifas said settling near Jarian's feet. He removed his Master's footwear and started rubbing his feet. "Worry not over the human, those creatures are rather set in their ways, but with a little prodding they come around."

Jarian laughed. "No one can resist my prods."

"I rather enjoy them," Shytolin said cheerily.

Jarlaxle entered the mobile tailoring room and looked around appreciatively, eyes settling on the four drow. "So this is where the creative magic happens." He chuckled at the way Jarian's eyes lit up. "I do like the décor. If you're all quite finished, the judges are going to unveil their decision in a matter of minutes."

"Oh my!" Jarian rose, his footwear was placed back on his feet, and after a final ministration to his head by Maskah he met Jarlaxle at the door. "If only Artemis were here with us."

Jarlaxle led the drow down the corridor to the balcony overlook of the stage. "Entreri deserves a break and you would do well to respect his wishes. Especially since he agreed to model onstage for you."

"So good of him to do that," Jarian said with a smile, inwardly thanking Jarlaxle for lending him the pipe leaf and the ring.

------

Frenzied anticipation filled Costumer's Hall. The judges had just conveyed their deliberation to Alurra and she anxiously waited onstage to deliver the results to the public. She twirled her fingers in her hair, causing jeweled earrings to clink and flash with each finger roll. The musicians in the upper balcony began a rousing fanfare that caused the audience to cheer in excitement.

Alurra smiled as a wizard illuminated her presence with a beam of light and she elegantly waved to the crowd, curtsying before them as she held the judge's results in a scroll clutched at her side. She waited for the music to cease and then began, "_Friends of fashion, the moment we have been waiting for has arrived! The judges have decided on the third day participants." _

Smirking at his impeccable timing, Jarlaxle held the curtain open for Jarian and his servants. They joined the crowd's revelry at Alurra's pronouncement, leaning over the balcony in a heated fervor. Raelos waved from a nearby balcony, twirling his wrist to extend his fingers and exhale a magical kiss that caused Jarian to shiver, his servants to cheer louder, and Jarlaxle to smile knowingly.

When the wave of applause ceded back to shore she continued, _"Prepare yourselves for the results!" _She opened the scroll. _"The first participant comes from the island of Evermeet…Narfindal."_

A ray of light illuminated the balcony where the Gold Elves primly sat. Narfindal stood and waved serenely to the crowd. He bade his models to stand and they bowed to the applauding crowd as he made a discrete exit.

"The second participant comes from the city of Silverymoon…Raelos!" 

The moon elf leapt to the edge of the balcony and waved excitedly to the crowd. His models cheered and clung onto each other, jumping excitedly.

_"The third and final participant comes from the city of Menzoberranzan…Jarian!"_

Jarlaxle snapped his fingers having the curtains of the balcony sparkle with a muted blaze as the ray of light basked them in its glow. Jarian let loose a squeal and levitated to the balcony's edge, giving an extravagant bow. Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin extended their arms, displaying Jarian as if he were a model.

The lights lingered in the balconies and the one that illuminated Alurra grew brighter as attention was drawn back to her. _"Now that the third day participants have been chosen, the judges all expect outfits of an extraordinary nature…and they expect the outfits to be assembled onstage. A special thank you goes out to all our participants. May your enterprises prosper because of this display of fashion. We shall convene tomorrow midday for the unveiling of the chosen participants' third day attires."_

---------

Entreri slowly wandered the corridors of Costumer's Hall, taking the long route back to the Inn. He knew Jarlaxle's scouts were watching him, so any illusion of freedom was quickly dispelled from his mind. The ebb and flow of noise from the main hall were a distant murmur until there was blessed silence. Having no map of the maze-like corridors he relied on instinct and common sense to get back to his room. With the exception of a stray servant, there was no one to disturb him being that everyone was anxious to find out the judge's results.

"Well, if it isn't the human."

Entreri paused; it appeared that he wasn't as alone as he thought. "And you are?"

Narfindal approached him and circled, raising an inquiring eyebrow at the mask. "The better question would be, _who_ are _you_?"

"You didn't answer my question," Entreri said. "Nevertheless, I am familiar with who you are. Narfindal, isn't it?"

"Indeed," Narfindal said with a nod. "Thus proving to me that you are not the mere brawn of a bodyguard nor the simple mind of a servant. You are clever and that makes me curious."

"Your curiosity would be best served elsewhere," Entreri said, proceeding to walk forward.

"Then, I do not get to see the man behind the mask?"

"You see all there is to see, the man and the mask are one and the same."

Narfindal chuckled, not only would he have to watch Jarlaxle…he would have to watch this one as well.

Entreri made it back to his room at the Inn and breathed a sigh of relief as the lock clicked shut on his door.

-------------

"ARTEMIS!"

Entreri was out of the bed, on the floor, dagger at the ready before Jarian hit the mattress. "Jarian! What are you _doing_!"

"Waking you up," Jarian said, sprawling on his stomach. He peered over the edge of the bed at the assassin.

"How did you get in? I locked the door."

"The Innkeeper's keys of course!"

"Of course," Entreri muttered, sheathing his dagger. "Do remove yourself from the bed."

"But I like it here, it's rather comfortable. Do you know what would make it more comfortable?"

"Oh! I do Master Jarian! I know!"

Entreri froze and turned to the door to see three audience members, one of which was raising their hand anxiously. "All of you, out. _Now_."

"It's too early to be glum Entreri," Jarlaxle said, strolling into the room in his robe. He put a warm brew of roasted beans into the assassin's hands. "Here, drink this. Perks you right up."

"Out! Now!" They all turned to leave. "Except Jarlaxle."

Four eyebrows raised, three left the room, and one stayed. "Well?"

"I thought I had the night off," Entreri glowered.

"You did," Jarlaxle said, "it's morning now."

Entreri sniffed the drink suspiciously. "There's no pipe leaf in this is there?"

Jarlaxle paused. "You knew?"

"I could smell it on Jarian in the tailoring room and you're the only one who could supply him with such," Entreri said. "In addition, a certain ring about his finger looked rather familiar."

"Then you don't need me to answer your question now do you?" Jarlaxle smiled and closed the door behind him.

Entreri took a hesitant sip, downed the substance, and set about getting ready.

-----------

The third day arrived with a combination of relief and excitement. Tailors could finally relax and enjoy the spectacle and audience members would be able to glimpse the best of the best. The section reserved for tailors was opened so that they could have a clear view of the stage. The audience would also be able to see their reactions unobstructed by the curtain that once separated them. The taking down of the curtain symbolized unity among those present, with the glaring exception of the curtain that always remained closed, hiding the mysterious judges from the world.

"I can barely contain my excitement," Jarian said, peeking through the curtain.

Raelos rested his chin on Jarian's shoulder and chuckled into his ear. "Contain it for later and we can release it together."

Jarlaxle cleared his throat. "Come along you two, the audience is waiting for your models and a different type of show."

"We prefer a select audience," Jarian said slyly, eyeing Entreri, "for a private show."

To his credit, Artemis Entreri only blanched slightly.

They made their way to the special viewing area and settled themselves accordingly. Raelos and Jarian sat at the edge of their seats, fidgeting with excitement, while Jarlaxle lounged back and Entreri sat stiffly, folding his arms. There would be no pronouncement by Alurra before the Third Day Display; the fashion would speak for itself.

The stage was lit with an incandescent glow that hovered at ankle-length. Torches were extinguished and the smoke accumulated near the stage curtain. Billowing sheer emerged from the velvet curtains, with the smoke adhering to its flowing fabric. The glow of the stage illuminated shadowed figures elegantly dancing between the sheets. The smoke caused shadows against the fabric that seemed to cling to the models, forming silhouettes of clothing.

The sheet dropped and Narfindal's models struck a pose as the fabric rippled to the floor. Ivory flakes fell from the ceiling, creating icicle-like jewelry. Accessories dangled as though they were part of a grand chandelier and they twinkled in concurrence with the fabric, which exuded an ice-laden sheen.

The crowd shivered and cheered as the models curtsied before them.

When they left the stage, the lights changed to a warm hue, imitating sunshine. A floral aroma filled the air and a soft breeze cleared the stage of the previous models' flakes. Tendrils of vines snaked onto the stage from the backstage curtains, writhing in tune to the swaying music of the orchestra.

Raelos' models took to the walkway, leafy foliage covering their bodies as flowers proceeded to blossom on vines surrounding the stage. With a slow extension of their arms the foliage was lifted to reveal a chrysalis of fabric about their forms, they lowered their arms and the fabric unfolded in an array of color, buds blooming into layers of material that rested lightly on their bodies.

The audience cheered as the models twirled to exit, sending petals and flowers into the public gathering.

The lights were extinguished and infrared color lit the stage. Black faerie fire flickered at the edges of the stage, a ring of indigo light embracing the black flames that reveled in the music. Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin emerged from the curtains, bodies merged together to create the illusion of a giant spider. Ebony skin was slick with sweat as they joined together to release threads of spider silk that weaved their outfits beneath a quivering web of fabric, revealed in a ray of muted light.

The web fell upon the stage causing the drow to fall to their knees in capture, however, when they stood the silk entwined about them to form a netted cloak. The dark elves grinned and broke free of the cloaks in a flourished pose.

The audience broke into an applause that caused the stage to tremble.

Alurra returned to the stage when the cheers dissipated to a murmur and she smiled. "_We have truly glimpsed the essence of fashion on this third day. Costumer's Hall thanks all of you for your attendance and continued support of the Waterdeep Fashion Display. We hope to see you all next season. Now, let us give applause to our Third Day models and tailors."_

Jarian and Raelos blinked in surprise as their bodies were basked with light. Hands quickly returned to their sides as they rose and grinned. Narfindal had somehow already made it to the stage to stand beside his models.

"Hold on tight," Jarian said pressing close to Raelos.

Raelos shivered and yelped in surprise as they levitated to the stage. Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin clamored around them as the crowd gave the tailors and their models a standing ovation. A smattering of color burst above the stage as various mages let loose fireworks of excitement.

Jarlaxle nudged Entreri who stood in applause and couldn't help but murmur, "we shall have to celebrate later."

"…excuse me?" Entreri edged away from him.

Jarlaxle burst out into laughter. "Do not worry yourself Entreri, that is not what I meant."

The assassin glowered. "I wasn't thinking that."

"No matter," Jarlaxle said, "I have already arranged for several kegs of alcohol to be delivered to our rooms, along with some celebratory company."

--------

The celebrations after the stage's conclusion continued well into the evening. Jarlaxle was content to be overrun by females and Jarian received a multitude of offers from various fashionistas clamoring for his 'magical hands.'

Artemis Entreri managed to return to his room, his head fuzzy from the amount of alcohol that was pushed toward him. Those elves knew how to drink. Thankfully, he still had a majority of his faculties about him. In a dim haze, he wondered if someone had slipped something into his flask.

"Why hello there handsome…"

Entreri paused and grasped onto the doorframe as his vision was assaulted by a feminine beauty splayed across his bed. "Who in the hells are you? And why are you in my room? The brothel is two blocks over."

The human woman laughed and smoothed back her hair. "My name is Rainaj and I was sent here by Jarlaxle. I am your reward for your compliance."

"…my compliance for what?"

Rainaj blinked as if she was surprised, "for your participation of course." She rose from the bed and seductively approached him, coyly running a finger down his arm. "I was told you were the model onstage for the second day. I wish to see a repeat performance…with less clothes of course."

"I'm not in the mood," Entreri said, trying not to be overtaken by her lithe beauty, sensual gaze, and close proximity.

"I can change that," Rainaj said. In the flicker of a candle, she had pressed against him, taking his lips into hers, one hand cupping his cheek as the other roamed.

Entreri stumbled back into the wall and nearly relaxed into the kiss as tongues were joined.

That was until he noticed one thing.

…a certain ring…

His throat clenched in a gag and he shoved the woman to the bed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "JARIAN!"

The woman smiled slyly and removed the ring, features morphing back into a male drow figure. "Yes?"

"You…_you_…" He drew his dagger and pounced.

Jarian, for once, was the faster and pinned the assassin's dagger arm behind his back, pressing his knee into the human's spine. His lips feathered Entreri's ear. "Come now Artemis, you have to admit that for a moment…you _enjoyed_ that. Why don't you just let me properly thank you for all that you've done? I promise that you will not regret it."

Entreri growled and struggled, his voice slightly muffled by the bed sheets. "I'll kill you first."

"Still so hostile after all that we've been through?" Jarian released him and stepped back. "So be it." He headed toward the door. "Just remember, I could have had you any time I wanted, but I preferred to wait until you wanted me just as badly. You should also be thankful to a certain mercenary Captain." He paused and grinned, "I'm of to have fun Artemis! I'll leave my door unlocked in case you change your mind!"

Entreri stared at the door in drunken shock, a fluttering of sobriety causing him to shudder. He bolted the locks and went to his bed, furrowing his nose at Jarian's lingering scent.

"Rainaj…wait, R-a-i-n-a-j, if I mix the letters then it's," Entreri's palm went to his forehead with a resounding smack, "Jarian. I should have known."

His head connected with the pillow and he welcomed the darkness of sleep with a heavy sigh.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Author's Note: **Ya'll don't want to know how long it took to write this chapter. :sweat drop: After battling with some migraines and a bout of writer's block caused by such, it was indeed a sequential battle. However, my 22nd birthday (on August 24) fast approached and I realized that I had to get the 22nd chapter up before then!

Next chapter, what will transpire the morning after? Will Entreri remember? Will there be gloating? How will different beings say goodbye? That's right folks, next chapter is the last chapter, with only an epilogue after that (:gasp: yes, this particular story will come to an end, but worry not about it until it comes)

--

_Entreri_: "You had the drow KISS me!"

_Authoress:_ "What? You expected Jarian simply to just pine for you? He had to have some action! He's such a nice fellow! And besides, he was a woman; it was a woman that kissed you. I could have done a lot…er, worse."

_Jarian:_ "Even as a woman, I'm all drow."

_Entreri: _:twitch: "The authoress is siding with the drow, the authoress must now die."

_Jarlaxle_: "If you kill the authoress, I'll resurrect her and make her into a lich. She still has to finish the story."

_Authoress_: "Death? Lich? What? Guys!"

_Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin_:offer the nice authoress a distraction to calm her nerves:

**Thank you all for your patience and for your reviews. You all truly make my day and I wish you great happiness. :hugs:**


	23. Fashion affairs concluded

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore, Ed Greenwood, etc. I seek not to steal from their creations, only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian and a few other originals however are my creations.

Morning in Waterdeep arrived with the garble of gulls calling, the murmur of merchants selling their wares, the spray of ships berthing at the harbor, and the low groan of an assassin waking with quite the hangover.

Artemis Entreri pressed two fingers against his right temple and grimaced. "By the abyss, I only had _half _of what they drank." His head whirled as he sat up and he frowned, forcing a measure of equilibrium on his senses so that he could keep his balance.

Last night's events replayed in his mind; a blurred kaleidoscope of images were obliged to focus as Entreri struggled to remember the alcohol-laden memories. He neared the end of his replay and his eyes widened considerably.

"By the-" His hand flew to his mouth as a wave of nausea rose in his throat. He stumbled to the washroom and cupped water into his mouth, thoroughly rinsing out any residue of the…interaction.

He shakily wiped his lips with a towel and willed his tense muscles to relax into a measure of composure. He inhaled and exhaled until he maintained a warrior-like calm before dressing and heading out to face the others.

--------------------

Jarlaxle lifted his eyes from a letter as Entreri entered the room. "It isn't like you to sleep in late."

Entreri just grunted in reply and sat at the table, placing some eggs onto his plate. He didn't acknowledge Shytolin's exuberant "Morning!" or the fact that Maskah and Kaifas were practically falling asleep against each other. When Jarian entered the room, he concentrated on his morning meal, absently wondering how much Bregan D'aerthe knew.

"How was everyone's evening?" Jarlaxle smiled to the table.

"It was simply a dream," Jarian said, stealing a sly wink at Artemis. "I had a wonderful time mingling in the festive atmosphere. Raelos and I personally taught those humans how to have a proper Elven party. And we received so many offers!" He paused, feeling the need to clarify, "for our outfits."

Shytolin nodded. "It was all so exciting and there were such pretty colors!"

Maskah smiled, resting his head on the other servant, "the sights and sounds were indeed things to be remembered."

"Over and over again," Kaifas chuckled into his companion's shoulder.

"Entreri?"

The assassin looked to Jarlaxle. "What?"

"How was your evening?"

"It was…all right," he responded.

"Just all right?" Jarian rested his chin on clasped hands and smiled ever so innocently.

Entreri glared, but it lessened when he noticed the inquiring gazes of Jarian's servants. _He didn't tell them?_

"I imagine we all had a bit of fun," Jarlaxle chuckled, "but now that the Display has ended it is time to conclude our affairs on the Surface and return to the Underdark."

"So soon?"

All eyes turned to the human that asked the question. Entreri shrugged, "I'm surprised that you're not accepting commissions from buyers on the Surface to further increase profit."

"Oh we are," Jarlaxle grinned, "you can be sure of that."

"I work better in Menzoberranzan," Jarian said. "The tailoring room I have there is outfitted for all types of workmanship, even more so than my mobile one. I can communicate with potential buyers from the Underdark, unless my presence is requested."

"We leave in less than an hour's time," Jarlaxle said as he stood, "so do finish packing." Addressing Entreri, "you'll exit Waterdeep the same way you entered. Once outside of its walls, my scouts will secure the area and a wizard will teleport you back."

Entreri nodded. "Understood."

"Guard them until you are back at the hideout," Jarlaxle said. "Once you've returned you may do as you will, until your next assignment. I recommend leaving your bags packed." Turning to the others, "if you have goodbyes to say to anyone, do it before we leave."

Jarlaxle left the room and Jarian stood. "I have to say farewell to Raelos!" He bolted to the door.

"_Jarian_." Entreri turned to the servants, "use those hands for packing and don't leave the room."

Maskah watched everyone leave, a hint of a pout on his lips. "Use our hands only for packing? That's no fun."

Kaifas grinned wickedly, "he never did specify what to pack."

Shytolin appeared puzzled, "I thought we packed last night."

----------------------

Entreri followed Jarian down the corridor, until he met the drow's swift pace. "Slow down, he's not leaving this instant."

"I don't want to miss him," Jarian said. He approached the wood elf's room and knocked.

Raelos opened the door and smiled, looking Entreri up and down. "Is he my parting gift?"

Jarian laughed merrily. "Only if I help to unwrap him."

Entreri did not find their exchange amusing.

"I suppose this is farewell then, my friend," Raelos said fondly to Jarian. "I shall miss you terribly. We have such wonderful times together."

"Indeed we do," Jarian said clasping his hands, "maybe one day I shall visit you. You can always request a commission."

"I will remember that," Raelos said, drawing him close for an embrace.

Entreri folded his arms at the doorway, keeping his eyes fixed vigilantly on the corridor's occupants as the elves said their goodbyes. After several moments, Entreri cleared his throat. "You're drawing a crowd."

Raelos blushed, causing Jarian to fawn over his flushed cheeks.

"Here," Jarian said, handing the elf a multi-colored gem, "this will allow us to communicate, in addition to the other means we've set up."

"Brilliant," Raelos said, tucking the gem into a pocket. Suppressing his mirth, "you best be going. Your human is getting anxious."

"Artemis is always like that," Jarian said with a wink. After giving Raelos one last embrace, he left the room.

Entreri walked beside Jarian, doing his best to ignore the way the drow was looking at him, until he could take it no longer. "What?"

"I'm thinking about last night, Artemis," Jarian said.

"Hn."

"Are you telling me you don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Do I have to _remind_ you?"

"No," Entreri said swiftly. "That's not necessary."

"That's all I wanted to know," Jarian said softly. "As long as we both remember, that is what matters and that is all who need to know."

They arrived back at the room and Entreri swiftly averted his eyes. "I thought I told you all to _pack_."

Jarian chuckled. "They take orders well."

------------------

"_Jarlaxle_!"

"Yes?" The drow turned to face a very perturbed Gold Elf. "Why Narfindal, you seem…upset."

"Of course I'm upset!" Narfindal seethed, "where are my models?"

"You've lost your models?"

"Don't pretend like you don't know! Several tailors saw you with them last night. A drow and Gold Elves leaving the room together…what will people think!" He forced himself to ask calmly, "Where are they?"

"In the room I left them," Jarlaxle replied smoothly, "enjoying a complimentary breakfast of which you are welcome to join. They are down the hallway from your suite." He smiled, "the door with the sparkles. I can assure you that they are unharmed and in quite the merry spirits"

Narfindal twitched, "keep your hands to yourself next time. I can't have the elves of Evermeet sullied by the likes of you."

"Do not worry Narfindal, I am a drow of discretion."

"I'm sure you are," Narfindal said patiently, "but next time do exercise a bit more." He turned swiftly, cloak exhaling a huff of annoyance as he continued to the sparkling room.

Across the Inn a very angry Lord Phinagon was wondering where his human models had disappeared. His servant Bark pled ignorance, conveniently forgetting that he had seen them wandering off with some Gold Elves and a drow with a very large hat.

Kimmuriel Oblodra emerged from the shadows as Jarlaxle passed. "Does this happen every place you go?"

"Not every place," Jarlaxle replied to the drow psionist.

"Most then?"

Jarlaxle just smirked.

"I will take that smirk in the affirmative," Kimmuriel said. The barrage of sensual thoughts he picked up affirmed his supposition more than anything else. He bowed respectfully. "All is prepared for your next venture. Are you certain that you can trust the human there?"

"Worry not about Entreri." A gleam of cunning glinted in his eyes, "Concentrate on the task at hand. If all goes well, something more than trust will increase for all of us."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Now this is the point where I point you in the direction of _The Sellswords Trilogy_ and a short story called _Empty Joys _to witness the further adventures of Jarlaxle and Entreri. I had debated for some time where to timeline this story and before _Servant of the Shard_ seemed appropriate, it would explain after all a bit more of Entreri's 'increasing humanity.' And :sniffle: this is the last chapter, for this story at least (that Jarlaxle muse of mine made me end the story on a cryptic note…figures).

There is an **epilogue** forthcoming, an amusing little snippet that gives you a hint of events to come. (and since I have the epilogue written, the update may be in a week's time rather than a month's time.)

---

_Jarian: _"I miss Raelos and everyone already!"

_Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin_: "It's all right Master Jarian, we'll keep you company."

_Authoress_: "Can I watch?"

_Jarlaxle_: "Me too."

_Entreri: _:mutter: "There they go again, bunch of perverts the lot of them."

_Authoress_: "I can't help it if the minds of my muses are dirty."

_Entreri_: "Don't include me in that assessment!"

_Jarlaxle_: "We're not the only ones with dirty little secrets, Entreri."

_Jarian & servants_:eyes sparkle inquiringly:

_Entreri: _:sigh:

_Authoress_:readies pen, points to review button with pen:wink:

**Thank you everyone for your reviews! You all bring a smile to my face. :huggles to all:**


	24. Epilogue

Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore, Ed Greenwood, etc. I seek not to steal from their creations, only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian and a few other originals however are my creations.

**Epilogue**

The soft glow of faerie fire illuminated a piece of parchment, resting quietly above an obsidian-laden desk. A dark elf thoughtfully tapped a quill against his chin, wondering how best to pen his letter. However, his thoughts were immediately distracted as he regarded the feather he held. He playfully smiled as his mind concocted various scenarios to implement the writing utensil.

"Master Jarian?"

The tailor turned his head to the door. "Yes, Shytolin?"

"Are you done yet?"

"No, not yet," Jarian replied

"You've been at it for a while, is there anything I can do to help?"

"Perhaps." Jarian watched his servant fondly as he motioned him into the room.

Tazolg yawned from his plush pillow and then squeaked excitedly at the entrance of the other drow. He fluttered over to the servant to fondly nibble on his ear. Shytolin laughed and nuzzled the fairie-like mouse with his cheek, lightly tickling its fur to make it turn a vibrant turquoise.

"Where are Maskah and Kaifas?"

"Oh you know them," Shytolin said playfully. "They are keeping each other busy."

"Doing their daily exercises then?"

Shytolin nodded. "They are keeping quite limber, Master Jarian. I was watching them, until I got distracted." He paused as if remembering something, "I know you said you wanted some privacy for a little while, but sometimes you say that and that is not so."

"It's all right," Jarian said. "I'm nearly finished. Be a dear and play with Tazolg for a bit. He's been rather mischievous of late." He surveyed the paw prints lining the edges of the parchment, justifying their presence as additional stationary.

Several moments of writing passed, with the sound of the quill scratching, Tazolg's squeaks, and Shytolin's giggles. When Jarian finished scribing his letter, he rested the quill beside the Everdark ink Jarlaxle gifted to him and delicately folded the message. He pressed the letter against his bare chest, having some of the scented oil absorb into the parchment before pressing it to his lips and pouring wax to make the seal.

He slid the paper into his pocket and turned to Shytolin. "Let us go join the others. I am in need of some exercise."

------------

The Calimport streets simmered with the aroma of incense and profit. Artemis Entreri paused in his surveillance as he felt an increased weight in one of his pockets.

Jarlaxle sensed the surge of magic and reached swiftly into the assassin's vest pocket. He withdrew a letter and smiled. "It appears there is a message for you, Entreri."

The assassin pushed the drow away from him, annoyed at the invasion into his personal space and clothing. He stared at his elegantly penned name on the folded parchment. "Who's it from?"

Jarlaxle showed him the seal and smirked as he noticed Entreri's jaw stiffen. "Well, aren't you going to open it?"

Entreri took the letter from Jarlaxle's extended hand, giving it one final look before breaking the suggestively shaped seal with his dagger. A flow of energy rushed out from the parchment and Entreri staggered back, swearing profusely.

"What happened?"

"It…it _kissed_ me!" He rubbed his lips with the back of his hand.

"Oh."

"Oh? What do you _mean_ 'oh?'"

"He sealed it with a kiss," Jarlaxle said with a shrug. "Many drow of his caliber imbue a message with sealed lips so that only certain beings can glimpse the writing." With a smile, "aren't you going to read it?"

Entreri sighed and proceeded to read.

_To my dearest Artemis-_

_I hope you enjoyed the kiss. May we always remember our moments together._

_Though it has been merely days since we last parted, I miss your brooding presence dearly. We did not have the chance to talk on our journey back to the Underdark, then again I was busy with keeping track of the commissions thrust our way and you were busy with ensuring out security. _

_Tazolg misses you too. I think he sensed that I was writing to you. He tried to compose a message, as you can see by his tracks along the edge of this letter._

_Artemis, you truly are the shadow in the darkness that makes my heart brighter. I sincerely hope that this message sees you and Master Jarlaxle doing well. _

_Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin wish you both well. They are keeping me company and are looking forward to any future fashion events. They rather fancied being models. I shall have to oblige them their roles more often. Shytolin is of the opinion that you should stop being an assassin and be a model, but I told him that your physical skills could be used elsewhere. Maskah and Kaifas agree with me._

_I have been taking various commissions from the Surface, with Raelos as my liaison to an assortment of buyers. Many races are enamored with the idea of dark elven fashion and my style especially. I have also been the talk of Menzoberranzan fashion circles. I am determined to maintain a certain degree of quality for Bregan D'aerthe so that all may be known as a mercenary with style. I have been inspired to create discretely practical modifications for outfits and do hope that you will test them out. I have many in the making that are modeled after your taste. I shall send them to you and Master Jarlaxle once they are complete._

_Well, it is time for me to stimulate other parts of my body and not just my hand. I am starting to cramp. I shall try to write to you when I can. Please reply if you are able._

_May your travels be safe and successful. _

_Darkest embrace,_

_Jarian _

Entreri finished the letter, conscious of Jarlaxle casually reading it over his shoulder. He was tempted to dispose of the letter, but placed it in another pocket. He was not in the mood for a lecture from the drow. Then again, maybe the letter touched a small part of him. Where that small part may lie, well, that's best left to the imagination.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I finished! I actually finished the story! (despite a snowstorm that knocked out power for a week) Then again, I've finished it in such a way so that if little one-shots of Jarian and his servants' further adventures beg to be written, then so be it. Or if that lemon certain muses of mine have been begging for arises…:just trails off:

**Thank you to everyone who has traveled on this literary journey. I've enjoyed writing the characters, working with my muses, and reading the wonderful reviews that have come my way. I wish you all happiness and laughter to the end of your days…and of course a unique sense of style. :wink:MASSIVE HUGS:**

_Authoress_: "I can't believe…it's ended."

_Entreri_: "Thank the gods."

_Jarian_: "It's okay Lady Authoress, we'll still be around."

_Raelos_: "Yes, it's been quite an enjoyable experience."

_Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin_: "That's right! We'll keep you company!"

_Authoress_: "Really?"

_Jarlaxle_: "Of course my dear, we've made ourselves quite comfortable."

_Jarian_: "Even Artemis is sticking around!"

_Entreri_: "Don't remind me."

:group hug:

:sigh:


End file.
